My Hero Academia - One Shots and Plot Bunnies
by Crimsom-Wyvern
Summary: A collections of short scene written to develop ideas and plot for possible stories in the future. Alternative universes, original arcs, anything and everything may be explored. Feedback is appreciated.
1. Onizuku 1

**AN: Ladies and gentlemen. Wyvern and Alvor the Warhawk proudly present to you a one shot repository for our random ideas as we try and come up with something to develop and post for real. Simple one shots depicting ideas we've had and plan to develop more at a later date for this fandom.**

**AtW: This one is pretty random, it's called "Onizuku" for obvious reasons. Hope you guys enjoy it!**

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**One Shot: Onizuku**

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Being an Oni had quite a few advantages. Amongst them the lack of need for sleep under most circumstances, the superior physical ability as well as not requiring to feed for long periods of time. One of the most useful, however, was the sense of smell which allowed them to track other Oni and differentiate them from humans.

To those like Izuku, humans had a subtly sweet scent, somewhat similar to flowers in bloom. These nuances made it possible to set them aside by memorizing how they smelled in order to distinguish humans from one another.

For example, Izuku's mother had a slightly citric smell. The tartness of a freshly skinned orange. A heavy scent that clung to her form like an aura. It was overpowering, yet welcoming scent that could sour at the drop of a hat. Specifically whenever other Oni approached their home for whatever reason.

Izuku could recognise it from kilometers away.

Kacchan on the other hand had a rather pungent smell of caramel, something Izuku had more than once chuckled about, as the boy's personality was far from being anything sweet. There was an interesting taste to it, he supposed. Similar to how the taste of caramel could cling to one's tongue.

Demanding of attention.

Overbearing.

It suited the short tempered blonde.

Other demons, however, didn't smell so pleasantly. Rather, anything that didn't smell like a human likely had some demon blood in it. Spirits had a unique smell. While those with animal features carried the scents of the forest wherever they walked. Even regional spirits had their own unique characteristics. European vampires, or at least the one he met, smelled like rot. Pungent and fetid. The skinwalker that had moved in with the kindly old nekomata on the outskirts of town was like the deserts of his navajo ancestors brought to life.

Oni, however, smelled like blood.

A metallic taste that overwrote everything around it. A scent that could never be fully suppressed. There was no way to wash it off, no concoction capable of masking the mark for very long. Amongst the creatures of the hidden world, Oni were the easiest to point out because they smelled the strongest. They were the Children of Cain and they carried his mark every day of their lives. According to the Kirishtans at least.

Which meant Izuku had no trouble sniffing out Ashido-san.

Granted, she had done a good job shampooing and washing off the scent with a heavy soap. Something that was as much a burning chemical as it was flowery. Izuku couldn't imagine having to live like that. Even his mother refused to make him hide _like that_. Not if she could help it, at least.

He felt a bit of pity for his fellow demon, in truth. Even if her terrible soap meant she didn't have to eat onions.

Izuku hated onions.

Not because they tasted bad. No, it was worse than that. To demons like him, onions were like anesthesia. It dulled their sense of taste and caused a dull ache that could last for hours. Just plain unpleasant, really. But a necessity.

onions were one of the few common allergies all Oni had. It weakened them to the point where they were no more dangerous than a particularly rowdy human. With a dangerous quirk, no regard for civilian casualties, and a series desire to rape, torture, kill, and/or eat whomever just force fed them the vegetable. Oni were not usually nice people.

But! Eating the little plant came with the positive of hiding their scent.

That and it meant Izuku's lifelong consumption of them had given him a not insignificant measure of resistance. Demon Hunters, as a rule of thumb, used onion products as part of their arsenals, making Oni and other Youkai that much easier to root out and subdue. Some of them rubbed the dried vegetable into their clothes, ran the essence of onion across their weapons, or in a pressurized bottle, almost like pepper spray, or simply carried the things with them.

Some openly, others covertly. The ones that stunk of it could usually annoy Youkai into making a mistake, or at least outing themselves, if they were dealing with brats. The ones that carried it covertly usually let bits of it out, or worked it into their fingers and made physical contact with their suspects. Basically, there were dozens of ways to weapOnize something so common and easy to acquire. And that was without advanced tech!

Developing a resistance to it had been paramount for Izuku's dream of becoming a hero.

After all, how could he be expected to fight in order to save people if a small vegetable was all it took to floor him?

Demon Hunters were a tricky bunch. Something he'd learnt from his mother.

A group of families with roots tying back to feudal Japan. Hunters were usually taught how to track down and expose yokai since they were very young, century old secrets drilled into their heads until they could easily recognise the signs of a demon and select the most appropriate counter for them.

Tanuki always carried a visible leaf with them.

Tengu were more active at night and became progressively weaker as the day went on. Lethargy often could give them away.

Kitsune were trickier. As they usually were. Unlike Tanuki, there was no visible sign on their body if they wished to conceal it. Rather, the only thing they couldn't hide was their shadows, which remained the same.

Of course, it was easier said than done keeping a stranger's shadow on sight.

He was distinctly aware due to mother's training.

In the end, there were no Youkai that were truly invincible, not even the ascended kitsune, as there was _always_ a counter. The benefits of a combined chinese-japanese monster hunting record that was more than three thousand years old. Sure, most hunters didn't have access to all of it, but they all knew at least _some _of it.

Even the gashadokuro could be sealed away where their hunger would eventually lead to the otherwise indestructible undead devouring themselves.

Only the kami were absolute.

And only so long as something scarier or smarter or just plain more vicious didn't catch them outside of their shrines.

Old Roujin didn't count since he didn't have a dedicated shrine as a god of poverty. Rather, he could inhabit any place that wasn't properly blessed to keep him away. Which usually lead to misfortune depending on how the man felt about his current hosts.

Izuku had heard from Old Tenjin that the minor kami had once sunk an entire enterprise over the course of a week, just out of spite for its rude owners.

He chuckled.

'Old and feeble my ass.'

Izuku actually carried a curse from the man. It wasn't anything major. Simply, he experienced all of his bad luck in a lunar month in the first three weeks, then experienced all of his balancing good luck in the final week. Ultimately, it meant he was more prone to stubbing his toe or cutting his finger than most, but was nigh upon untouchable for seven days.

It had ranged from free meals, to finding wallets full of cash, and even, once, two kisses on the cheek from a _very_ appreciative pair of twins after he'd gotten their cat down from a tree.

Roujin had laughed so hard miso soup had blown out of his nose at that one.

But sharing some ramen or some soup with the old timer was a small price to pay for perhaps the most useful curse Izuku had ever heard of. That and the guy legitimately didn't care Izuku was a monster.

_Allegedly,_ and Izuku was very firm on that, the man had once shacked up with _the_ Shuten Douji.

The Oni… wasn't too sure about what the old god was saying.

Dementia was a very serious issue, after all.

And of course, it seemed like his luck curse was about to strike again. After all, what were the odds that he would find another Oni at the most prestigious hero school of the country? In the same year and class no less.

Even so. He followed her out of class for lunch, taking a few wrong turns so that they two of them would end up at a storage room.

How cliché.

There were empty shelves, with the random box of chalk or a bucket strewn around. The ceiling was high above their heads, perfect for evasive action, while the lack of windows meant there was no way out other than the door behind him.

A gamble? Or perhaps a show of trust. He didn't know.

"So?" She started, giving him a once over.

"So?"

"You stink like onion."

He knew where this was going.

"I eat it regularly." He gave her a reassuring smile, allowing his fangs to poke from underneath his lips.

If anything, her face became even more doubtful.

"And you are one of us?"

"It's not pleasant." He defended, wrinkling his own nose in distaste at his breath. "But it keeps the Hunters away."

The pink skinned girl gave him a long searching look, her horns twitching ever so often in what he assumed was a gesture of focus. Did she think he was some kind of disguised Hunter passing for an Oni?

'That won't do.' He sighed. If anything, if would lead to a fight and Izuku in no way, shape or form was willing to damage the school on his first day.

"Here, let me prove it." Izuku lifted his hand and bit down it. Tearing a chunk out, he swallowed and held his limb up so Mina could watch as his flesh grew back in.

"Wow! You heal that fast during the day? Who are you?" She pulled back a little. "Are you a pure blood or something?"

Izuku nodded.

"Yeah. My father is an Oni and he's definitely the kid of someone scary. He has fire and lightning powers. He didn't treat mom, she's a human, too well so we don't… see him much?"

"He didn't turn her?"

"The bastard tried."

His tone was perfectly calm, there was no seething rage hidden in his words, but it was clear _exactly_ how little Izuku cared for the man who sired him.

"Damn. She… must be something then."

That got Izuku to smile.

"My mom's the greatest woman in the world. I love her and I wouldn't trade her for anything. Even being a human myself."

Mina frowned.

"Not that I have anything against humans, I am here after all _and_ both my parents were turned, but why would you want to be one?" She twirled in place, taking a seat on one of the empty desks.

"I mean, sure, they can tan, but they're just so _weak_. Hell, I even have a quirk, so it's not like we don't get those nowadays. Besides Oni are _so_ much cooler. I just don't get why my idiot parents like to play pretend, when there's no reason we should have to." Her easy going grin became fanged and sharp. "And it's not like eating corpses is even that weird compared to some of the people running around. Humans aren't the only ones that can be Heroes and Oni aren't the only monsters around here, after all."

Izuku felt a migraine coming on.

Just his luck to be dealing with a ghoul of all people.

'Then again. It explains a lot.' Namely how an Oni could be so chipper yet ignorant of the dangers of their hidden world.

Ghouls were a modern subset of Oni who adapted to a modern life style. They lived from the bare minimum and were masters of concealing their true nature. Rather, you could cross them on the street and just assume they were someone with a rather exotic quirk.

But that also meant they knew very little of what being an Oni usually entailed.

"That's the thing, Ashido-san." He started. "We are different from humans. And like you said we can be stronger than them. But there are exceptions. And its those exceptions we gotta watch out for while we are here at U.A."

Huffing again, Mina rolled her eyes.

"We're here to be heroes. Why would a hunter even bother with us?"

"Humans can be monsters too." Izuku smiled, letting out a little of his own bloodlust, his teeth lengthening an eyes flashing red and black. "But that doesn't mean we aren't the ones they should be afraid of."

Mina paled, a cold sweat breaking out across her brow as she violently shook, pure terror filled the room as the pink heroine to be suddenly reacted to his killing intent like a rabbit to a raging boar hound.

"Oh my god! Are you ok?" Izuku stopped playing around and immediately his eyes returned to their normal green. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think that'd bother you so much! I thought your parents would have taught you how to do that by now, are you sure you're ok? I really, really didn't mean to-"

Lightly punching Izuku's shoulder, Mina just slammed into his chest and hugged him close.

"P-p-please don't do that again. That was m-more than both my parents at full power."

Not really knowing what to do, Izuku did what his mother would have. Running his hand through her hair he began to gently rub her back while he returned the hug.

Killing Intent wasn't something easy to handle after all.

The most effective tool for the denizens of the hidden world. It could be described as the release of one's willingness to hurt someone else. The raw emotions pressing down on others like a physical force. Oni used it to hunt humans. Hunters used it to hunt Oni.

In a battle of life and death, the one most willing to hurt the other… won.

"I'm sorry." He ignored the wetness he felt on his shirt. "I really didn't think I was letting out that much. Please, Ashido, forgive me."

They were silent for a while, the pink girl taking quivering breaths as she recovered, while Izuku just stood there, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world for goofing off in a way that hurt someone.

What would his mother say?

"How…" The smaller Oni stood up, legs trembling. "How did you do that?"

"Training. Lots of it."

"But for _what_?" She stressed, chin pressing into his chest. "Why would you need to learn something like that?"

Izuku wanted to sigh. He wanted to find the girl's parents and give them a very stern dressing down for their apparent lack of sense when it came to parenting. There were all sorts of things he wanted to do. But for now, he satisfied himself with just smiling thinly at the girl.

"Protection. Oni aren't the nicest breed of yokai around, and a lot of people dislike us because of what our fellows tend to do. It harkens back to those old stories about Oni destroying cities or taking over mountains to use as their fortresses."

"But those were so long ago! Why would they even matter?!"

"Because _those_ Oni are still around." He pulled Mina over to a desk, sitting by the girl's side. "Ibaraki, Shuten, Otakemaru. The Oni we learn about from stories never really died. Sure, they disappeared or retired but never truly left. And many of those that _were_ defeated were often times just sealed."

Just last year Tokyo had been quarantined because there was a sighting of Shuten-douji. It had been a mess, and nobody could do anything about it. The official reports had blamed it on "villain activity", of course, but the point stood.

"Oni like you and I are too young to have anything to do with those old demons yet we still get lumped together with them, because humans don't like it when there are too many of us. So, whenever a run of the mill thug feels like they are the next big disaster, they get hammered hard. Either by hunters or by other Oni. Self policing prevents genocide."

"That's…."

"The only way things work. Not unless you want purges or war."

Mina let out a deep sigh and went in for another hug. Izuku… just hugged her back. He knew just how unpleasant it was to learn that your species was literally seen as the monster under the bed by others.

A polite knock came from the door.

Considering they were in a storage closet, this surprised both of the teens.

"Did you…invite someone else?"

Ashino shook her head.

Izuku nodded. So, whoever was out there either heard them talking or followed them. None were good options. It was better to rip off the band aid and see what they were dealing with, though.

"It's open." He called out.

Three large knives punched through the wood of the door and Izuku moved instantly.

_**Thud thud thud**_

Mina screamed and Izuku just sighed.

"Shit. Another shirt ruined."

Really? Didn't they know how hard it was to wash bloodstains off? Never mind the blades sticking out of his chest, if he moved too much they might tear the shirt further.

"I just got the school uniform too…."

Yaoyorozu Momo pushed the door open.

"Ah, Midoriya-san. You're the Oni? I assume you are the source of that harrowing aura just now? And Ashido-san, my, I didn't expect to see you until later! But I suppose it makes sense you'd start an affair with another demon. Your kind are primal, lust filled abominations after all. Though I admit it's better you two rut like the beasts you are than force yourselves on poor, innocent humans."

Izuku tugged the six inch metal spikes out of his chest, teasing them out so as to avoid further ruining his shirt.

"Your aim was off. Even if you were trying to hit Ashino in the head you'd have bounced off of her skull. And if she'd reinforced her body at all these would have been useless." His eyes turned red. "Are you about to die, Hunter-san?"

The taller woman tilted her head demurely, an embarrassed giggle escaping her.

"I suppose the door threw off my aim, though you will have to forgive me Oni-san. I was a tad hurried to dispose of you."

He flipped the blades in his hand.

"Well then Yaoyorozu-" Izuku sent the knives flying back at Momo's head with three casual flicks of his wrist. "If you're unsure about your skill, you shouldn't attack a scary demon."

She reached out and snatched the knives out of the air. A single dainty finger curling around the flying blades with instant precision, the flat of the blades getting caught between the knuckles of her left hand. On her right, the rustle of cloth was all the warning Izuku had before a longer blade, thin and smelling of fresh produce emerged.

The ponytailed girl stabbed forth.

Izuku stopped the strike with his maw, teeth turning into jagged fangs, before bringing a knife hand down on the sword. The tinkle of broken metal filled the air and Izuku's snatched the largest shard out of mid air and speared forward with the blade, aiming straight at the black haired girl's head, aiming to kill.

Less than a blink later, the metal shard was impaled in the wall, a few strands of blakc hair trapped in it as Momo's hair fell in a wave around her shoulders.

"Little girl, y**ou're making me hungry!"**

Fingers lengthened into claws, skin turned an inky black, eyes glowing red, breath stinking of rotting flesh as his teeth finished becoming a collection of sharpened bone: curved weapons meant to tear flesh.

"My oh my, what big teeth you have mister monster. Still, you weren't hurting any students. So there's no need to be rude. And besides, your woman is shaking like a leaf. I don't think you're strong enough to last too long, huh, miss monster?" Momo's smile was beatific. "So if we got into a real fight, I'd just need to bleed her a little and then you'd be stuck protecting her. I know your kind are cruel, but you wouldn't abandon your lover, would you?"

A barking laugh wasn't her expected answer as Izuku relaxed, his body returning to normal.

"Mina's cute enough, but she's not my lover. Still, if you try anything, they won't find what's left of your body, got me?"

Yaoyorozu inclined her head.

"And if you touch a human student, I'll salt and burn your corpses. Fair?"

"I suppose so." Izuku hummed in thought. "Other than laughing at your empty threats and assisting with correcting your sloppy aim, what can I help you with Yaoyorozu?"

"Perhaps." She hummed, pulling a stack of neatly folded papers from her uniform. "Aizawa-sensei asked me to deliver the class schedules."

"W-w-what!? You just stabbed Izuku in the chest and almost took his head off! And you're just going to act like nothing happened!"

Momo smiled and bowed.

"And he ruined my hair." She ran a hand through her black hair. "So we can call it even, right I-zu-ku?"

Stepping out from behind Izuku's back, Mina jabbed her finger at the huntress.

"No way. You're insane! This isn't normal. I mean, I'm an Oni, and I _know_ this isn't sane."

Still smiling, just as politely, Momo tilted her head to the side.

"It's ok side character. You're cute, but most Hunters won't touch abominations like you. When you die, it'll be fast and with how weak you are, you might not even see it coming."

Paling, Mina recoiled, violently, and Izuku stepped between the girls.

"Thank you, Yaoyorozu, I'll take our schedules now. And behave yourself around the others. Bullying Mina will both damage your reputation and see you punished." His eyes flashed red. "By the teachers and by me. The school is neutral ground, remember that."

"Ah. I understand very much. Your kind aren't even supposed to be here." She handed the two Oni their schedules. "So I'll remember that. But make sure you do too. After all, you're not the only ones with back up."

"Goodbye, Yaoyorozu."

"Goodbye, Midoriya~."

The girls didn't say anything to each other. When the newly perforated door closed, Mina collapsed back into the desk and began to sniffle.

"Izuku, would she really have killed us? M-Momo was really nice to me before, why did she change so much? And why did she stab you!?"

Shaking his head, Izuku couldn't help but take a moment to marvel at his new… freind's naivete.

"Mina, how much have your parents actually told you about _what_ we are?"

"Well…." She prevericated for a moment. "We eat people, the moon calls to us, sunlight makes us feel sick if we don't wear sunblock, onions are super disgusting, silver hurts, certain charms can restrain us, we heal fast, we can maybe live forever, and other than that we're basically normal. Like, there's no extra organs or weird magic things we can do. At least, not Oni like _us_, you know? Some quirks are way crazier than us."

Sighing, the green haired boy shook his head.

"There's way more to it. But that… is something for another place. Another time. As for Yaoyorozu, she's a Hunter. It's a title, by the way, not a gendered adjective. They're _not_ normal people. And all of them are dangerous."

"But why would she try to kill us like that!"

"We eat people, Mina." Izuku's voice was kind, patient even. "We're not human beings, but rather their enemies. Everything about us offends them. And besides, every Hunter has a reason to hate us. They don't last long otherwise. Plus it's not like she tried very hard. We didn't even get rowdy."

"Your shirt is ruined." Mina dead panned.

"Geez." Izuku looked down. "My whole torso is soaked. I… hope I have a spare in my gym locker. This is just the worst. And we were having such a good day too."

"You are taking this awfully well, I'd say."

"Well, it's not the first time this has happened, you know. Hunters are really well organized, and act mostly during the night, which is coincidentally the most active time of the day for Youkai like us. They've been targeting me for awhile now, I guess I'm old enough to be an acceptable target or something. So this wasn't the first time I've had to deal with one. Though Yaoyorozu-san is awfully skilled for her age, she hasn't finished her training yet."

The horned girl huffed.

"Seriously? You'd think they would put their time to better use. There are villains crawling all over, why not focus on protecting people from them."

"Well…." Izuku looked sheepish. "Actually, a lot of villains are actually from one breed of youkai or another. Sure, it's not every single one of them. But those who operate at night are either working with Oni or for an Oni."

"Really… but, I mean, my parents have a few friends. They're oni too, but are there really that many of them? Of us?"

Izuku shrugged.

"There's maybe five, possibly six hundred non humans in Mastafusa. There's a _lot_ of us in Japan. But yeah. We don't have a secret parallel society or anything, but there's enough of us to make a couple communities. Tokyo has the single largest one, with around two thousand youkai living there. Some prefer to live in the countryside. Easier to avoid a knife to the throat that way."

Mina just took her schedule with a sheet.

"I guess you're not wrong."

Her horns were drooping and Mina's back was bent over. Izuku sighed at the pitiful sight.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. I've got your back, ok? No one will jump you while I'm around. I promise."

Giggling, Mina nodded.

"That sounds pretty serious Izuku. Are you asking a girl out?"

Blushing, Izuku seized up.

"A-a-a-asking you out!?"

Now the pink girl let out wild guffaws.

"You don't mind taking knives to the chest but a little teasing and you freeze up? You really are the best. Now, come on. I bet you've got some great muscles under there and I wanna watch you change!"

Steam metaphorically blew out of his ears.

"What?" Mina grabbed his hand and started pulling Izuku towards the locker rooms. "Mina! Wait, what are you doiiiiiiing!"


	2. Onizuku 2

**AN: So, it seems we are going two for one with this one shot! We were a bit inspired and decided to give you guys another installment of our nascent idea: **_**Onizuku!**_** And before anyone asks, yes, we are considering turning this from a series of one shots into a full on story. Just let us handle the logistics first.**

**AtW: We're short on time and long on ideas, so we don't want to over commit. Let us finish Flask's first arc and then we might do an arc of this. As for a few things: when we used the term "ghoul" last chapter, we were referring to the Arabic corpse eater, not Tokyo Ghoul. Oni are as varied as people, they simply have certain traits exaggerated to an extreme degree. And Izuku in particular comes from an interesting background. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this one! Leave lots of reviews! Comments, criticism, and congratulations are all welcome! (Questions too~)**

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**One Shot: Onizuku II**

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While there were quite a few differences between Oni and humans, enough of them that Izuku could spend hours lecturing on the subject and its intricacies, there were quite a few important things that the two species had in common. Behavioral patterns which could be pointed out in both species. Such similarities weren't at all uncommon amongst other Youkai races such as the Tengu, Yuki-Onna and Kitsune.

Like the need to form familial groups and connection.

Ones that didn't have a vested interest in what they tasted like, especially.

The need to socialize, too, was true in both races. Oni were wild, extreme, depraved even. But that wasn't to say they _had_ to be, civilization wasn't in their blood, but it wasn't alien to them. Not like some people thought. As bad as Mount Ooe was, the Jomsvikings were basically identical in what they did and how they treated humans.

Even with dissonance of values, of the vast miles of difference in what each species called common sense, it was clear that Oni held values towards each other that most humans would accuse them of lacking.

Such as respect.

Loyalty.

Mercy.

In the old days, nascent Oni would congregate together and seek strength in numbers. It wasn't that uncommon for one of them to feed on a human and accidentally turn them, leaving the victim to contemplate their new existence. Mostly because the Oni in question would pluck out the human's liver, particularly the livers of those with a degree of power themselves, in an attempt to grow in power themselves. Old myths, indeed. Everyone knows the heart and brain held far more power. But that meant you had a wounded human, usually in immense pain, clinging to life as a foreign energy filled the area.

You couldn't blame such a desperate being for grabbing ahold of life with both hands. It would be hypocritical at best and likely just stupidity or racism speaking. That said, there's something to be said for restraint. Otherwise you left a hundred newly created, confused, terrified monsters in the middle of a highly populated area with no idea what to do.

One value that Oni, particularly adolescent ones, held dear to their chests was the notion of teenage rebellion.

Like turning your high school crush without permission.

Joining one of the gangs that lived hidden by the shadows of society.

Trying to summon an evil god through ancient rituals. And lots of tantric magic.

Every one of them went through a phase. Some flashier than others. Most got over it.

Izuku liked to think he was better behaved than most Oni his age. He didn't try and eat people. Only drank their blood with explicit consent, maybe took a nibble here or there if they were into it, and never, ever, _ever_ lied about what was involved with it. Of course, blood was cloying and rotting flesh stunk to high heaven and he couldn't stand being unclean.

He brushed his fangs and kept his horns small enough to be hidden by his bushy hair, a small boon born from an otherwise daily struggle. Yet that didn't mean he didn't act out every once in a while.

Mind you, he wasn't getting into fights or antagonizing any of the powers that be.

That would have been stupid.

Rather, Izuku was often taken by the need to stroll through the dark streets of Masutafu at night, when most were asleep and the only ones active were villains, the heroes hunting them, Youkai, and the hunters trying to kill them. It wasn't always clear which was which. Not when everyone had super powers or crazy weapons stashed on them.

But again, he wasn't looking for a fight. Nor did he sneak out that often either.

Only when the moon was full and the night was clear enough to see its splendor.

Moon Gazing was one of Izuku's favorite activities. Compared to his hobby of quirk analysis, both for pleasure and for practical purposes, and the sparring sessions he had with his mother, those more for pleasure and to avoid the urge to feel flesh tearing under his claws, there was just something about it which… soothed his soul. A magnetic force which demanded his eyes bask on its silver light for as look as he could keep them open.

Yet he never felt tired. Quite the opposite, in fact. Whenever he returned home from his stakeouts, Izuku felt as if he'd just had a hearty breakfast with plenty of sugar. It made him hyper, giggly as a toddler. His mom always knew and never approved.

Her reasons were logical, carefully laid out, and totally reasonable. But they never did stick.

So she opted to prepare him for his outings as painfully as possible.

'Tough love, thy name is Inko Midoriya.'

It was moments like those that made Izuku happy he wasn't undead and that things like motrin worked for his kind.

But that was that and Izuku was more concerned with the shining silver jewel hanging in the night sky. Humming a soft lullaby, one his mother had taught him, he stuck his hands in his pockets and watched as his breath misted in the chilly evening air. It was December afterall.

Winter moons, especially full ones, seemed especially beautiful. Perhaps the crisp air and still nights made everything sharper. Perhaps he was just edgy. Izuku wasn't particularly concerned. Right then, the only thing in the cosmos was his brilliant lady and the beauty she only displayed for him.

To Youkai, the moon was considered sacred.

Such a thing was a reminder, harkening back to older times when their kind lived in isolation as exiles of society, unable to live alongside humans, forced to come out only under the cover of darkness. Indeed, those were the dark times for their kind. Where all they held was pride and power, even as they drowned in the blood of their kith and kin.

When the moon was their only consolation.

A balm to their lonely souls.

But times had changed, and with the rise of quirks, those who had once been forced to live as outcasts were finally able to step into the light of the sun. Nowadays, they did not need the comfort of the full moon. It was considered tradition, a throwback to what they used to be. What many still clung to. More than one Youkai sang to her still, just as he did, and all too often they were songs of their people's sorrows.

After all, the Hunters were growing stronger and bolder than ever before.

Izuku didn't care, he was just out here to gaze at the moon.

And there was no better place to do it than Masutafu's Regional Park. A vast expanse of forest land kept by the government as a wild preserve. It was a regularly visited tourist attraction, a preferable alternative to the now ruined Dagobah Beach.

The vast canopies of the trees and the small river combined with the crisp night air was pleasant, a gentle breeze blowing through his hair with a soft caress.

It was like a liquor, when it hit his nose. Intoxicating, perhaps, would be the word most apt. But even then, it was more than that, more primal, more demanding, more… tempting. When the scent danced past his nose, Izuku felt his body twitch.

His claws flexed, his eyes flashed red even as his pupils dilated and his skin flickered a shade of pitch black.

'Calm.' Izuku let his desires wash over him. "Calm." His voice was softer than a feather's falling. "_Calm._" Finally, the moment passed.

Whatever he had just smelled still had a hold over him, there was a powerful _need_ in his stomach that Izuku knew meant he'd need to eat something… raw. Soon, too. But curiosity killed the cat and satisfaction brought it back.

Izuku was dying to know what smelled so utterly, deliriously amazing. He turned down the side pathway, one he knew by heart, and began lightly stepping across the stones. His passage no more than a breeze on the wind.

There, sitting on a park bench, was a young woman.

More interesting was the fact that the young woman was a nadeshiko.

A perfect, traditional, Japanese beauty.

From the dainty white gloves, to her elegant seven layered kimono, to the tabi and sandals she wore, this woman was the picture of… perfect grace. Perfect femininity. Perfect subtlety.

Inko, his mother, always insisted that he know real traditional garments from the modern knock offs. How a proper Japanese gentleman, or gentlewoman, should dress, how they should speak, and behave, and the proper etiquette associated with old, _old_ families. And with a woman such as this, there was only one thing to do.

He bowed.

"Young Lady-" Izuku was formal, polite, and he kept his head inclined. "If I may ask, what are you doing out here, on a night such as this, by yourself. Don't you know Youkai hunt on full moons?"

A tinkling laugh answered him.

"Oh, so polite young sir. Surely you don't believe in fairy tales? A boy as strong and as close to being a man as you surely have moved past them."

Izuku looked up, the elegant planes of the woman's face and long, silken hair striking some cord in him. Not of lust, but of… familiarity. As if he knew her.

'But that's crazy. I don't know anyone like her at all.'

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. We live in a world of gods and demons, regardless if they are from myth or not. And it is often those who wish to seek to do harm to others that are out at this time. With all politeness intended, may I enquire what a woman as beautiful as you is doing out this late, on your on, in an abandoned park… smelling of innocence and… more."

Her eyes flashed with a light that seemed so oddly familiar Izuku would have sworn he recognized it.

"You may. But it's hardly fair to tell such things to a young man whose name I don't even know."

Inclining his head, this time only ever so slightly, Izuku kept his eyes on the other woman.

"And I may tell you. But names have power, my lady. And I must once more wonder, what need does a beautiful woman have for an empty park. Especially dressed as if you're off to visit the Shogun. It makes me wonder if, perhaps, you're a kejourou. Or trying to imitate one."

This time the woman clicked her tongue.

"Are you calling me a whore, boy?"

Chuckling, Izuku shook his head.

"Fairytales are they?"

Blinking, the woman let out a belly laugh.

"My oh my! You are a clever one. I do confess, I greatly enjoy those old fairy tales too. Especially the horror stories, even if they do tend toward the grim. My name is Nanako, young man. What's your's?"

As the woman inclined her head, so too did Izuku finish his second bow.

"Midoriya Izuku, mam. It's nice to meet you."

Quirking her lips, as if smothering a chuckle, she just gave a small shake of her head.

"If I promise I'm not a kejourou, would you come take a seat next to me?"

"Of course." Izuku gave her wide smile and stayed exactly where he was.

"Well Izuku? Are you going to sit with me?"

At her impatient tone, Izuku shook his head.

"You haven't promised yet."

"Hah!" She laughed this time, short and sharp. "Very well young man, I promise I'm not a kejourou or a villain or any other kind of Youkai. Just a plain old human. Fair?"

"You haven't promised me you mean me no harm."

At Izuku's deapan the woman just quirked an eyebrow. Chuckling to himself, he reiterated what he said earlier.

"An age of gods and demons, mam."

This time Nanako rolled her eyes.

"Just come sit next to me you brat."

Her tone was light and Izuku wasn't one to rankle easily.

"If you say so… aunty."

Izuku had the feeling she wanted to do something very unlady like. That's just what his gut told him. That and how her hand involuntarily moved in a short stabbing motion.

Once Nanako was calmer, and Izuku sat down on the cold park bench next to her, the two shared a companionable silence for a while. Simply sitting together and gazing up at the moon, or at least Izuku was. Remaining next to the source of that impossibly amazing scent was leaving his head swimming and his eyes dancing with spots. It was only the cold, pure beauty of the moon, _his_ lady, that kept him grounded.

"So, Izuku, you enjoy moongazing?"

It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up, so entranced was he by the moment of stillness and peace. Even the noises of the city had faded away, leaving only a few insects or frogs singing in the cool night air. This bothered him, but even the unease creeping up his spine seemed… unimportant. Less important than chatting with the pretty woman sitting next to him.

'She really is very pretty.' He let out a deep yawn. 'And so nice too.'

"Yes mam." Izuku rubbed his eyes slightly. "She's just so pure. So… perfect, I guess. Even her scars are more like… beauty marks. Because if she didn't have them, the gods would have just stolen her away. And us mortals wouldn't get to look upon her. The Moon… is the most precious jewel in all the heavens."

"Ah, jeeze, you're too romantic Izuku. You'll never get a girlfriend if you talk like that. What woman could compete when you're so clearly already in love?"

Nanako leaned forward to rest her chin in her hands.

"I was hoping to get at least a few compliments you know? I got dressed up all fancy like, hoping maybe a forest spirit would sweep me off my feet or maybe at least a cute Tanuki would let me bully him a little."

"Um, miss?"

"Just call me Nanko." The woman waved him away.

"Yes Miss Nanako." This time she snorted. "Forgive me if I'm rude, but I fail to see how a woman as pretty as you could have issues with finding… suitors."

"Wah! That compliment was too polite! There wasn't even a bit of passion or romance in it. I can't believe I lost to a rock. And all the men at work are afraid of me. Sure, some guys invite me out, but Japanese men just aren't that assertive. But even if I get a date, I always scare them off. Even the ones that say they like to be dominated. I'm never even gonna get a kiss!"

Seeing a grown woman, especially one that just minutes ago had been so refined, sulk and pout like a, well, a despondent _teenager_ that'd just been told her crush liked another girl, was a nex thing for Izuku. So, like any good Japanese man, he defaulted to politeness. Gently patting her back, he gave her an awkward smile and tried to calm the crying woman down.

"It's ok, it's ok. I'm sure you'll meet the right guy sooner or later. There's plenty of fish in the sea, so he's definitely out there. Somewhere."

"'SNIFF' You think so?"

Doing his best to channel All Might, Izuku gave her an ear to ear smile.

"Yup! I know so!"

After a moment, Nanako dried her eyes. Suddenly brightening up, she pulled a wad of papers out of one of her sleeves.

"Izuku, you like fairy tales too? And magic?" At his tentative nod, she rifled through them until she pulled a charm out. "A monk sold me this! He said that if I meet a nice person I should have them touch it and the characters will move to predict their fortune!"

Izuku chuckled. At first, he'd been worried. Some of the papers looked like actual charms, the kind onmyouji used to torture and imprison Youkai. But little gags like this were common enough. Some inventor out there had made a few types of "moving" ink, mostly by making them sensitive to the oils and heat of the human body. Plenty of tourist traps at shrines sold things like these, meaning this woman was probably a wealthy person from one of the big cities. She was certain… eccentric enough for the role!

"Sure, sure. So I just run my finger across the paper, right?"

"Yup!" With another enthusiastic nod Nanako handed the paper over and Izuku complied.

"Oh dear." Upon inspecting the now moving kanji, the black haired woman frowned. "It says here… that you have a curse of bad luck!? What's that? Did you upset a kami Izuku? How though, you're such a nice person! Did you eat too much meat? Damage a shrine on accident?"

Grabbing Izuku's hands, Nanako pulled him forward.

"It says you should make some miso soup and put it out, that means you have a poverty spirit haunting you." She looked him up and down intensely enough to leave Izuku blushing. "Well, you look ok. Maybe it was just misfortune that one got you. Hmm… do you go to temple?

Before Izuku could sutter out a response, he realized something. He couldn't hear anything, aside from the pounding of his own heart, or smell anything but the perfume Nanako was wearing. And that all of a sudden, it got a _lot_ colder.

"N-Nanako… not that this isn't… very interesting, we should go. Something feels off all of a sudd-"

_Crack_

The sound of a twig breaking was enough to snap Izuku out of his reverie, the world suddenly coming back into focus as the haze which had clouded his mind up until that point was lifted by an all too familiar sensation. A wave of anger and hunger which seemed almost like a physical pressure bearing down upon the two of them.

Killing Intent.

A large shadow lumbered out of the forest, at least seven feet tall with dark scarlet skin and a mane of wild white hair cascading backwards. Its body seemed like it couldn't decided what it wanted to be, with muscular arms double the usual length, an overstuffed stomach bloated out of proportion, its legs were stubby by comparison, though they were no smaller than a normal set by any means.

Everything else about the creature was just massive.

From the curved saber-like fangs poking from its mouth, to the large crooked horns growing from the sides of its head, curling to the sides much like a sheep's.

Its eyes, a menacing red, glowed in the darkness like flashlights.

Izuku knew immediately what they were facing.

'A starving one?! Here of all places?!'

Izuku's return to clarity came accompanied by the sudden desire to bash his head against one of the trees nearby. How had he missed that thing approaching them? Starving Ones couldn't keep their human form, permanently stuck in between their two selves. The abnormal skin tone and warped body type making it look like a mutant-type quirk gone wrong.

Horribly wrong.

The clearing shook as the disfigured yokai stepped closer, its knuckles supporting the creature's massive girth much like a gorilla. It growled ominously, runny saliva dripping from his maw and sizzling against the ground.

Izuku stood up, and nearly fell flat on his face, his body felt like it had gone asleep. Muscles stiff and bones leaden with exhaustion.

What in the name of Yomi was happening?

He didn't have much time to think, however, when the larger Oni charged towards them, fists thundering against the ground as it launched itself towards them like a very angry bus. Its roar echoing on Izuku's ears as he met its charge with his own.

His pale skin darkened into obsidian, thin crack patterns spreading over his limbs giving them the appearance of scales. Normally curly hair pulled back as it grew into a mass of silver waves, revealing the nascent horns growing from his forehead, curving ever so slightly against the wind like an antelope's. Scything, jagged, gnashing teeth pushed through his jaw, forcing his lips open and scraping against one another.

"Run! I've got this. Run damn you!"

Roaring back a challenge of his own, Izuku slashed out even as massive, vicious claws pushed through the tips of his fingers, popping his nails off as they grew, and slashed the monster across the face.

And as the beast reared back, he pushed forward. Then, his foot caught a loose stone. If he'd been sober, this wouldn't haven even made him stumble. As he was, still addled by both the perfume Nanako was wearing and because his body seemed to be _misfiring _for some reason, he fell.

Limbs flailing and body twitching as erratic spasms pushed through his body, he could do nothing as the Starving One raised his fist high into the air and brought it down.

Izuku didn't scream, he didn't cry out. Instead, he vomited blood, choking as the red fluid was stuck in his throat, and tried to pull himself free as the monster picked him _by the inside of his ribcage_. Even as he flailed about, the wounds he'd left on the Oni's face slowly knitted themselves closed.

'Really, of all things not working in his body, the _regeneration_ is still okay?'

He spat out a glob of blood into the thing's eyes, the larger oni bringing one of his hands to clean it up. Izuku grit his teeth and jerked forth, his foot burying itself on the monster's neck with a sickening _crack_.

It dropped him like a hot potato. Though missing one or two ribs.

Izuku's torso was a mess, though he'd already started healing from it. He made to stand up and continue his assault when he noticed something.

A familiar smell, followed by an even more familiar haze.

This time, however, the pain of having someone else play surgeon with his torso managed to keep the smaller Oni alert. Enough to see that the area was starting to be covered by a plume of pink mist which seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Becoming increasingly dense, to the point where he could barely make out the shape of the trees across from the clearing.

He held his breath.

The bigger oni? Not so lucky.

Wobbling, the thing began to stagger back and forth, definitely trying to come towards him but letting out a massive yawn and almost falling over instead.

Two glinting knives suddenly plunging into his eye sockets woke the beast up. Yowling like a cat, roaring like a bear, squealing like a pig, the thing began to grope at it's face, trying to pull the blades out. Izuku didn't give it a chance. Recovered enough to attack, he slashed at the thing's belly, disemboweling the obese monstrosity.

Claws perforated intestine, spilling half digested remains across the ground. Garbage, bits of animals, what looked like a scrap of tire, and even an entire, semi digested arm spilled out of the three foot long gash Izuku ripped in the thing's body. One hand blindly groping at it's eyes, the other trying to hold it's stomach closed, the monster was easy prey for the double attack that came for it.

A long, thin, silver blade slid elegantly past its ribs even as Izuku's fist collided with the monster's head.

Brains and blood and bone filled the air as both survivors leapt away. Izuku swallowed when he noticed the flesh around the wound sizzling and hissing, the burned, blistered, blackened meat slowly falling away even as the Oni's neck bubbled and shards of bone tried to slot back together. And then it all stopped.

Monstrous flesh and muscle suddenly sagged, growing limp and weak.

Izuku swallowed.

"So, Midnight, you're a Hunter?" The pink fog, the quirk of the famous heroine Midnight, enveloped him once more and Izuku's muscles gave out. Falling backwards, he just sighed. "Well… at least tonight's a full moon." Pink sparkles filled his vision. "And I'm going to be killed by a beautiful woman. There's worse ways to die, you know?" His chest throbbed, he vomited more blood.

With his heart still reforming, Izuku knew there was nothing he could do. He was weakened, his body wasn't responding, and even as the wounds he'd suffered healed his mind began to drift farther and farther away. So, he smiled. Small, a little afraid, but… peaceful.

Midoriya Izuku smiled up at Death, come to him in the form of a maiden fair.

"It was nice meeting you, Na… na… ko."

His eyes closed.

Blinking, confused, Izuku sat up.

"Where am I?"

He wasn't confused by the fact he was outside, more that he was alive at all. Looking around, he recognized the back area of the park soon enough. Hidden behind a small copse of trees, he was stretched out in a small hollow, a scratchy brown blanket covering most of him even as birds chirped in the trees and children laughed in the distance.

Looking down, he noticed a piece of paper sitting in his lap.

"The fortune telling charm? … Oh."

It was an odd thing, a Youkai being spared by a Hunter. And it was in that moment that something very important occurred to Izuku.

"Crap! Mom!"

Carefully folding the charm, Izuku slid the thick paper into his pocket and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, concealing the bloody tatters that was all that remained of his T-shirt. Leaping up out of the hollow, he vaulted over the metal fence around the park, and began dashing towards home as quickly as he could.

"She's gonna kill meeeeeee!"


	3. (Not) Created Equal 1

**AN: Another day, another one shot, another attempt to make Izuku's road to herohood even more complex and hilarious. Here he faces his natural enemy, his Joker. This little chestnut is based on stories like Total Command, where women get all the quirks and guys get pretty little leashes, or harems. Depends really. Still, its a great story so go give it a read.**

**AtW: Despite my rank perversion, I actually really liked this one. We aren't TOTALLY sure where it fits in with our planned timeline… but it is similar enough to canon. Rock and Roll, yeah?**

**Wyvern: So sit back and enjoy the ride!  
**

* * *

**One Shot: (Not) Created Equal**

* * *

It was the scratch marks along her neck that gave it away. Izuku had watched and rewatched the security footage at least two or three dozen times. That, and the fact the whole even was burned into his mind.

The fear. The tension. The sheer desperation.

He remembered how the enemy's leader had scratched her neck in frustration, growing angrier and angrier as she did so. On the off chance it was an actual, recurring nervous tick he'd even pointed it out to All Might. Toshinori had acknowledged it but said that it… a minor tell. More useful in a fight than in identifying someone.

Hair could be dyed, they could wear a mask, bandages could hide scratches, and even colored or reflective contacts could be used. Either as a civilian or in costume.

All of the best villains only got there because they could fake it in public.

"Ah. You're that woman from USJ again." Izuku didn't run or scream or jump as his vision was blotted out with a scarred grin and a black hoodie and long, lanky white hair. "Are you planning on carrying out a terrorist attack with me as a human shield? Or is this a personal call?"

'My classmates aren't nearby.' Izuku cut his vision left and right. 'But a lot of civilians. With that speed from USJ… at least thirty people are in range.' When she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, four fingers coming to rest on his shoulder, right at the crook of his neck, he tensed.

"Don't worry. I'm just here for you. Today, at least." The woman chuckled. "Now relax. You don't want anyone… causing a scene. After all, doesn't that family look so cute? It would be a shame if they reacted and I had to put them down."

Izuku turned and finally saw the woman who'd been his obsession since he first fought a villain.

"You're tired."

Grinning widely, the woman's fingers dug into the meat of the join of his shoulder. Compared to the pain of breaking his limbs with One for All, it was nothing. Something that seemed to mildly impress her.

"Watch what you say little boy, if I touch you with all five fingers at once, well, let's just say they'll be sending you home in bags." Her grin turned… sweeter. Almost painfully wide, the man, _many_ scars on her face stretching. "My name's Shigaraki Tomura, Izuku-kun. But you can just call me Big Sis, ok?"

He glanced sideways, emeralds meeting rubies as the tension surrounded them like a palpable force, the urge to move, to fight, reflected on their gazes for what must have felt like an eternity. Truthfully there was nothing he would have rather done than wrenching himself away from her grasp.

But not here.

Not while they were surrounded by so many innocents.

"Alright." He sighed. "What do you want this time, Shigaraki?"

"Well, I had some questions. And I was hoping we could talk over a pot of tea? Maybe trigger a few flags for the main quest you know. You are All Might's precious child, after all."

"You know-" The green haired boy chuckled. "My classmate asked me that. She thought I was a secret love child of Toshinori's. Honestly, she's kind of like… an idiot older sister? For the symbol of peace, she forgets to take care of herself. Just like Kurokami Sensei too. Do I... do I have a thing for idiots? No, no way, Kacchan isn't stupid. She's just crazy. And Shoutou is really smart too and I'm pretty sure I have a crush on her. Maybe it's just odd luck or part of being super strong like that or-"

The fingers around his neck tightened.

"It's not polite to talk about other women in front of a girl." Shigaraki's smile had disappeared. "You get negative bond points like that. And it might just pop a death flag."

"Ah." Izuku gave a short bow. "I'm sorry, it's just when I get nervous like right now I tend to ramble. But you're right. You said something about tea, yes?"

"You're not going to try to resist?"

Now there was open confusion on the villain's face. Sheer and, somehow, amusing.

"Of course not." Izuku himself spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "There's only a few possible outcomes to fighting. Two of them end up with me dead. It's a very simple choice, you know. Especially since you just want to talk."

He smiled at her.

"Right, Big Sis?"

Shigaraki blinked.

"How are you so calm?" She brought her finger down to his neck, Izuku's clothes starting to smoulder and slowly crumble to ash.

"It's simple." Izuku's green eyes hardened. "If you attack me, I use a single 100% blow. You're faster but I'm far, _far_ stronger. We both die. If you attack someone else, I try to stop you. Either I delay you until the heroes show up or you kill me. The only other choice is to have that tea."

He smiled at her, even closing his eyes.

"Besides, Big Sis, my childhood friend used to beat me until I was burned and bloody. Then she'd make me rest in her lap. I'm used to girls like you, even if every time you touch me I want to scream. So it's no big deal."

His entire body was trembling now. Small twitches and unconscious movements born of a suppressed and growing desire to flee. Katsu's handiwork engraved into him: mind, body, and soul. After all, he still tensed up when it was just his mother hugging him.

'Shigaraki, you're like an army of spiders crawling inside my skin!'

Izuku's fingers twitched, small red sparks flickering between the digits, his bones groaning and muscles tensing.

"Tch. Pathetic. If your teachers couldn't even look after you, why the Hell don't you hate this pathetic, lazy, _passive _society?"

Shrugging, Izuku answered.

"Who said I don't?" Walking forward, feeling the fingers tighten even further, he continued. "Buy me that tea and maybe I'll tell you about it."

Thankfully, his gamble paid off. Shigaraki let him go and started walking towards a particularly pricy tea shop, the kind that sold a bunch of different brands and style and things like coffee or hot chocolate too. For some reason, the villain pushed forward and left him behind. For a second, Izuku thought about running.

Instead, he walked alongside the villain as she weaved in and out of the crowded mall. The sadistic woman making sure to brush against other people as they moved. A small touch here, another poke there when all it would take was five fingers to disintegrate an adult in seconds. Like she had nearly done to Aizawa-sensei during the USJ incident.

'Of course it was a test.' Izuku grimaced slightly. 'If I'd run, she'd just have wounded a bunch of people and disappeared. At best.'

Instead of entering the fancy cafe, filled with bright neon light and dozens of people, they detoured to a quaint little cafe near the food court. It had that after work hours feeling with lowlights and wooden walls. The tables had vintage chairs, with knock off leather seats. The earthy scent of fresh beans filled the air, a fragrant mixture of bitter and sweet which made his mouth water.

There was also the absence of screens of any type. No TV monitors or computers or even tablet menus like the fancier cafes liked to use. Instead they had a large wooden radio playing old tunes near the counter, where a barista busied himself with wiping glasses.

Truthfully, he wouldn't have minded coming here at any other given time.

It felt… homey.

Also wholy uncharacteristic of the villainess by his side.

"Have you… come here before?"

"Not me." She harrumphed. "Kurogiri."

'Black duty? But who is… the butler!'

That was the name of the villain warper. The one who'd brought Shigaraki and the other villains to USJ and later scattered his classroom so they could be tormented by the scum of society in a bid to hurt the heroes, their teachers.

He filed the information away for later.

The two of them took a seat by the back, near the counter. Shigaraki preferring to stick to the shadows. Either that or she was keeping herself incognito just in case one of his classmates passed by and somehow managed to recognise her. That would have ruined the villain's plan faster than any punch Izuku could have thrown.

Something that he still felt an urge to try, even if the space had let him stop twitching.

"So." The villainess began. "I have three questions." The woman held up three fingers, half covering her scarred face. "The first one is simple. You hate this world. You hate Japan. Why do you want to be a Hero? Why would a boy like you, one with a quirk that is, want to protect the corrupt and the decadent? What does helping your oppressors do for you?"

"Well…." Izuku scratched the back of his head. "That's a hard one you know. And it's not just one reason. Though, I do suppose if I were to cut to the heart of the matter… it's freedom." He gave a wan smile. "I don't suppose I really believe in justice or fairness. If the world was fair, nothing bad would happen to good people. And not even Toshinori, All Might, not even she is a Goddess."

Had the world been just and fair, his sister and predecessor wouldn't have had her guts torn out from her body. And he wouldn't have been given away as a chew toy to appease his rabid beast of a childhood friend.

But the world wasn't just.

The world wasn't fair. And he could see why so many chose to rebel against it. It was all a matter of perspective. In a way, he wasn't any different.

Biting his lip, Izuku closed his eyes and took a moment to order his thoughts.

"I suppose that answer is explained in two ways."

He leaned back.

"The first one is kind of naive, self serving even. Aizawa-sensei and Kurokami-sensei would call me an idiot or inefficient for thinking this way, but I still believe in right and wrong. That there are things you should and shouldn't do, regardless of how powerful you are."

Holding up a clenched fist, he locked eyes with Shigaraki and let a few blue and yellow sparks, his own quirk and not One for All, dance across his fingers; his aura slipping out. Just a little, so as to not draw too much attention.

"Using only the power I was born with, I was easily in the top 5% of the strongest quirks. In terms of raw strength, at least. Considering it's a Universal Booster and a Projection type, that takes me up another two standard deviations. I'm easily in the top 1% when it comes to how useful, flexible, powerful, and adaptable my quirk is. The only downside being that it could burn me alive if I overuse it. If I wanted, I could have lived a life of pleasure."

And wasn't that true.

The government spared no expense when it came to ensuring the future of the next generations. Making sure that they would be as powerful as possible, and given the best when it came to health care and education.

With quirked males, this manifested as a nearly obsessive need to appease and protect them from the world.

Separating them from society.

It was as if they were treasures to be zealously guarded and then given to whoever was 'worthy' enough to possess them. Top heroes, influential politicians, the most brilliant minds and the most successful businesswomen. They were the coup de grace, the holy grail at the end of the tunnel.

The ultimate reward.

So its not like they were mistreated. Indeed, if he had made his status known from the start, Katsu wouldn't have gotten away with nearly as much as she did. Because according to society, a quirked male's children were more valuable than a prospective hero.

"Just look at my classmate, Shouto. Endeavor's daughter. Her father lived in literal Imperial luxury. And he just had a minor frost quirk. Still, that's only one half of it. The second is much shorter. 'Not everyone is an asshole.' Blunt, I know." Izuku chuckled. "But it's true. No matter how much I might suffer, I have no desire to start a revolution. I'm smart enough to know that they never go smoothly. After all, you work for the man that both started the first Villain Revolution and was overthrown in the Hero's Rebellion. Right, Big Sis?"

"'Snort' Don't try to be clever, _I~zu-ku_, you don't want to see me when I think you're starting to sound too smart. I may decide to pluck your cute little tongue out." Shigaraki stretched and flagged down a waitress. "Besides, after trying to cast so many spells you need to replenish your MP. Kurogiri told me what's the best to get here."

"Hmm…" He made a show out of leafing through the menu, putting on a small coy smile. Though it looked a tad crooked, nervous. "It is my cheat day, so I could go for something greasy covered with chocolate."

"Get whatever you want. I have my teacher's card." When a pretty young woman, brown hair with large, floppy rabbit ears sticking out over her head, walked over to take their order Shigaraki spoke before the woman could even introduce herself.

"I want a golden smile. And it's on one check. Izuku, get whatever you want."

As the villain laid her head down in her arms, her companion strangled the urge to snort.

"Ah, miss, thank you! I'd like… a half pot of Kyushu Blend, hot of course, and… a large slice of the strawberry shortcake. Maybe… a small slice too? For my friend over here. I have the feeling she's going to want some too."

Shigaraki gave a snort.

"Yes mam! Right away. I'm always happy to serve a cute girl."

The waitress winked at Izuku and he couldn't help but blush.

"Maybe I should have worn pants today…."

Of course, his mumbling was most certainly overheard.

"Isn't it annoying, having to dress like a woman all the time?"

Izuku blushed at the question. After all, he was wearing a deep green blouse, one that was large enough to hide the fact his chest was flat as a board, and a long white skirt that fell past his knees. The kind with a little design in blue thread around the hem that looked like a wave.

"It's just to keep people from paying attention to me." He bowed his head. "If they think I'm a girl they're less likely to bother me."

Lifting her head up from the table, Shigaraki looked him dead in the eye.

"The thigh high stockings? The cute shoes? The bow in your hair? You're prettier than most of the women out there."

"M-my friends… wanted to help me dress?"

He felt like his face was on fire.

'Thank god she didn't notice anything else.'

"And the underwear?"

This time Izuku choked on air.

"H-h-how did you know!?"

Tilting her head, Shigaraki just smiled.

"I didn't."

Thankfully, that was when their food and drinks arrived.

"Stain."

Tomura took a bite of cake, from Izuku's plate, and just continued to smile at him.

"Honestly, you'd know more about that than I would." Izuku stole a bite off of Shigaraki's slice. "I… understand the why, maybe, but I don't think I truly comprehend the emotions behind it. Not like he did. As for the how, perhaps I can help, but I don't know that much about him at all. I do suppose I can tell you why he was so dangerous. But I'm sure that's something you want to figure out yourself."

He wiped his mouth.

"So you're going to need to clarify what question you want me to answer?"

At once Shigaraki's entire mood seemed to change from her easy sadistic playfulness to something akin to an enraged beast, eyes burning red with a seething hatred, lips pulled back into a tight snarl.

The fork in her hand became silvery dust.

"That's what I don't get it. Why? Why does everything seem to revolve around that failed reject. He lost. He rebelled against the system, killed more heroes than anyone else in a long ass time, but still lost. What is so special about a loser who failed to accomplish _anything_!"

"Hehe. And they say I'm the naive one." Izuku took another big bite of cake, pouring a fresh cup of green tea for himself, and making sure his… companion didn't accidentally disintegrate her drink. "Your coffee smells delicious, make sure you don't ruin it. Ok?"

"Big Sis is getting _annoyed_ Izuku. _Explain_."

Sighing, Izuku finished his drink.

"It's simple you know? All you care about success or failure. Even being an inch closer to beating the final boss is the exact same as being crushed at spawn, right? At least if you haven't saved the whole time."

"Only an idiot doesn't do that!"

Izuku smiled and nodded.

"Of course. But Stain didn't care. He was a super rare model that managed to clear the secret level and almost got away from second in command." Shrugging, Izuku finished off his cake. "And here's the thing, as far as I can tell… Stain didn't actually have a philosophy."

Drinking her coffee, Shigaraki cut her eyes at him.

"Well, go on. I've heard a dozen people spew his bullshit at me. You think you can do better?"

"Probably. He saved my life and I fought him. I even did a bit of research. And besides, it wasn't Endeavor that took him down. Shouto, Iida, and I did." Nodding slowly, Izuku relaxed. "Stain had… an ideal. Not a philosophy. He wanted a new golden age. But what's so wonderful for all the would be revolutionaries out there is our government is just too foolish."

Shigaraki gave a deep sigh, an intense look on her face and one that scared Izuku a little.

"To clarify, he was obsessed with All Might. What she represented. But… he wasn't really. What he was obsessed with was the idea of being a true hero. Not just a civil servant. Of course, no one has actually articulated the philosophy he did in his activist years. I read his manifesto, I even agree with most of it. But it's all 'scary killer this' and 'violent terrorist that'. The news networks have made him an international celebrity overnight… and they've never actually communicated _what_ he wanted or _how_ he wanted to change things."

"So a bunch of noobs got the lore wrong?"

At Shigaraki's question Izuku made a so-so gesture.

"Yes and no. There isn't anything _for _them to get wrong. Because Stain, the name and the mask, are an empty symbol they can mean anything to anyone and ultimately nothing at all. He was… the anti-All Might, in that way. And before you interrupt, let me answer your next question. What does Stain and All Might have that I don't?"

"Tch."

Izuku smiled.

"Don't worry, I only guessed that one because I've asked myself the same question a million times. Frustratingly, it's both simple in theory and almost impossible to pull off intentionally. Do you want to take a guess?"

"Freaky injuries?"

Izuku snorted. Fighting back the urge to point out the scarring on both sides of the girl's neck.

"I take your Sensei told you about what she did to All Might, huh?"

The villainess had the indecency to smile wide back at him, pearly whites grinding together uncomfortably.

"Told me every detail. Every. Single. One."

The green haired boy took a deep breath, counting down from ten, then from twenty, to calm himself and not do something rash like trying to tear out the crazy woman's dry lips from her ghoulish face.

"The obvious aside. We both know there is something they both have. Something we don't. People look at them and _feel_ something. It's not just admiration or fear. It's more than that."

"More?" Shigaraki moved closer, her focus holding on his every word.

"When people look at All Might, they see someone who can't lose. Someone who will fight to protect them. They feel safe. They feel hope. Its not because All Might is the strongest or because of her popularity. Rather, its a stalwart belief that what she was doing was_ right _that attracted people to her."

He took a sip from his coffee. Mulling his next words.

"And Stain." He began. "Stain had this same strength behind his beliefs, scattered as they now may be. He believed that what he was doing was the right thing, and spoke of it with such ferocity that people started to believe him. He was every bit the preacher, giving a sermon to the masses ..."

In this society, men with quirks were considered national treasures. And tradition dictated that they be protected from the dangers of the world.

Stain was being held up as a precautionary tale. An example of what could happen if they faltered on keeping up to this restrictive caste system. This silly notion that having a quirk somehow made them any better than their fellows.

"And of course-" Izuku finished his tea. "There's the fact that they simply don't care."

"You failed the quest at the last objective."

Laughing, Izuku couldn't help but pout at the villain across from him.

"Come on Big Sis. Don't you get me?" The deadpan stare didn't inspire confidence. "'Sigh' Ok, ok. I'll explain. It's just that the two of them don't care… about anything. Not societal conventions, not their own limits, not what the law or politicians or even their comrades said. All Might _was _going to save people and Stain _was_ going to reform heroes. You get me?"

Shaking her head, Shigaraki began to pick at her neck.

"That's stupid. I don't care about any of those things either!"

"Sure. But you care about winning." Izuku's eyes flickered with power, deep emerald hardening to something like ice. "That's the difference between them and you, Shigaraki Tomura. Victory, for them, was simply an inevitability. They _would_ succeed, not just because they were righteous, but because they _refused to fail_. You want to win. And because of that, _you can lose_."

Her face was close to his.

Dangerously close.

With her pale, clammy skin and the dark bags under her eyes forming dark circles, she looked every bit like a wight. Her face pulled into a hungry smile, garnet eyes twinkling with a fire that made him uncomfortable with their intensity.

"And you?"

He flinched back, minutely.

"What about me?"

Their noses were inches away from touching. Her words carrying the sickeningly sweet smell of the cake they had been sharing. If anything the smell felt more pungent. Stronger. As if it might envelope his senses.

"Do you believe it? Those pretty little ideals. Those petty little reassurances. You speak of them so easily, but you are not like the others. Not like the dumb sheep. You rebelled like Stain, but you unlike him… you are _winning._"

Izuku let out a disbelieving snort.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand."

She pushed an inch closer.

"You might have fooled the heroes and the sheep. But you can't fool me. You said you hate society, but you don't try to tear it down. So you are playing it. Playing everyone. Playing the part of the earnest pure hearted boy who just wants to help people. But I see through it. You… you are just like Stain."

The implication was obvious.

_Just like me._

"I'm not trying to destroy the system, Shigaraki." He snapped back, but it only seemed to make her eerie smile even wider.

"Aren't you? Because from where I stand, the moment you become a hero, you're gonna prove that the Ranking System is bullshit, and every little low rarity canon fodder is gonna think that they can do it too. That they should do it, but are being held back."

Her breath felt scalding against his skin. Contrasting with the cold sweat rolling down his back.

"I just… want to be free."

"And you will destroy everything to get it." She inched closer.

And planted her lips on his.

He kissed her back. Izuku tried not to, tried to remember Aizawa-sensei in a pool of her own blood, did everything he could to pull away. But… he just couldn't. Her lips were soft, her tongue was inside his mouth and Izuku could only moan as she dominated him utterly.

Stroking his cheek, she pulled back.

"One day-" Her voice was husky with need. "you will join me. And when you do, it's going to be… beautiful."

Sitting there, hand over his heart, Izuku simply watched as she disappeared. First into the crowd and then ten seconds later from the mall.

"Oh my gosh you two were just like Beauty and the Beast! Too cute!"

Izuku jumped in his chair when the waitress squealed.

"A tragic, brooding, dark older woman and a cute, beautiful young girl! It's just like my books! Ahh, I'm so sorry I tried to flirt with you earlier. If I'd known you two were a couple I wouldn't have winked."

Blinking, dazed, Izuku said the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm not a girl."

"Huh?" The waitress seemed confused.

"I'm a boy. Have a good day."

Standing up, he ignored the woman's elated squeals as he went to go find his classmates. Izuku… needed to talk to someone.

"Maybe I should give Gran Torino a call. If nothing else, he'll forget everything I have to say."

That or kick him all the way to Hosu for going on a date with a villain.

Likely both.


	4. (Not) Created Equal 2

**AN: So, this one was a bit random. And ended up growing into one big one shot by the time we were done. Perhaps one of my favorites for possible My Hero stories going forward. Let's see how this one pans out, right partner?**

**AtW: Indeed. We have one more of these style of one shots in the works. Unfortunately, I… am not ready to continue work on Flask. Serious personal issues have negatively affected both my mood and my output. Please blame me for this failing, Wyvern has been extremely supportive and understanding. As for this chapter… I hope you like it very much!**

**Wyvern: Hey. We are co-authors. When one isn't at their best, the other's gotta be there for them. So don't sweat it, I know you would do the same for me.**

**AtW: Thanks my friend. Still, let's hope everyone enjoys reading this chapter as much as we enjoyed writing it. And now, on with the show!**

* * *

**Not Created Equal: Thawing Ice, Rising Dragon**

* * *

Gym Gamma, also known as Training Kitchen Land, was perhaps one of the least impressive structures U.A. was in possession of. Its interior looked no different than a run of the mill high school gymnasium, though without stands. This wasn't really a place for spectators, after all.

And, even if it was, they'd be redundant.

The school had access to its own stadium, after all.

Nonetheless, there was a reason why so many classes fought over the rights to use the deceptively normal structure. And that had to do with one simple reason.

Or rather, one woman in particular.

"Cementoss-sensei, I need another row of targets!"

"May I have another dummy, please?"

"The fucking floor has broken again."

"Dark Shadow has escaped!"

The concrete underneath the students feets seemed to melt and shift as it changed shape. Damage was fixed, targets were created, and larger, more effective, and durable constructions seemingly surged from nothingness with the barest touch; the whole are taking new form as it was rebuilt.

Indeed, the only reason Gym Gamma was so well regarded and envied as a training ground was due to the presence of the Cemendine Hero, Cementoss. A well known literature teacher whose quirk allowed her to control and shape concrete as if it were wet sand, solidifying it in order to create various structures to serve a myriad of purposes.

Such as aiding in practice.

Hence why the area was so contested amongst students, because the woman's schedule could only fit so many training appointments per day.

Today just turned out to be Class 1-A's turn to work there.

"Ryu Hi Shou! (Dragon's Flight)"

Izuku's body vanished in a flash of green flames, air displacing around him in loud waves as momentum pushed him forward like a rocket. His fist blasted through a large villain-shaped statue, annihilating its upper torso in a shower of mineral gore, as the sole boy of the hero course went skidding through the floor.

Carving deep tracks on the floor as he finally slowed to stop.

"Not again…. " Izuku hissed, his fist clutching the smoking remains of a training glove.

This was the third pair just this hour!

Overlooking the destruction he'd left in his wake, the green haired boy could do little but despair over his newest Super Move's sloppy performance. From the deep trenches left behind on take off, to the unnecessary damage done to the target, to his own gear getting busted everytime he needed to test it.

_Ryu Hi Sho_ was another technique he'd chosen to adapt into a super move. The attack was a simple dash coupled with a right hand jab to the solar plexus. The attack, while painful, was much less dangerous than _Sho Ryu Ha_, which blasted the enemy point blank with a surge of Izuku's aura at close range.

After he'd nearly killed Stain with the latter move, Izuku had been warned that while pro-heroes were expected to react to threats with appropriate strength, his technique wasn't fit to be used against baseline physiques.

Stain had been a special case in that the man had a couple life sentences lined up for him and had been ready to add another hero to her long list of victims when Izuku intervened. Though the Police Chief warned him that if he miscalculated again, there would be little preventing the Hero Safety Commission from taking action against him.

Not that they needed much reason to. A lot of people were waiting for him to take a step out of line, biding their time for when he showed his true colors as a 'fragile and non combative member of society' and kicked him out of the hero world.

Frustration welled up in his gut and so Izuku did the one thing he always did when he was angry.

His left hand flashed out, yellow-blue energy crackling around his fist as he struck a newly reforming target. Cement turned to dust, the grey particulate exploding out in a halo as he began to wail on the object. As much as he hated the favoritism his gender got him… Izuku couldn't complain about the infinitely regenerating villain targets around him.

Punch, low kick, uppercut, spear hand through the chest.

Debris falls, kick the head into another target, explode forward, snap kick, mule kick at the enemy behind him.

Once more three more targets exploded, his body twisting as he lashed out at the ever increasing numbers of enemies around him.

Palm strike to the side of head, jab to the throat, haymaker to the nose, side kick to the knee, axe kick to the shoulder, straight, cross, cross, straight, straight all to the head.

Now it was five pillars of rock that were left as shards and splinters.

Flaring his _Aura_, bolts of energy, this time red and yellow and blue and green, grounded themselves in the dozens of hostiles surrounding him. Spinning in place, his foot lashed out and decapitated the entire circle around him, his enhanced body reducing the targets to rubble. Of course, that only gave him ammunition. As more enemies closed in, he simply punched _through_ the closer targets. Each shotgun spray of stone projectiles perforated a half dozen more targets behind them, the gaping holes in their smouldering chests evidence of what his fists, when he was drawing on One For All at just 1%, could do to a human being.

"Huff, huff."

Izuku was slightly winded when there was nothing left to hit.

As always, his problem was not technique or power. Rather, it was restraint. The ability to accurately gauge how much strength he was using and how much would be enough for each individual enemy.

Since he was a boy, since he was so used to fighting girls with powerful quirks and never using him, since he'd faced villains and the Hero Killer…. Midoriya Izuku was someone used to fighting with all he had just to survive, restraint wasn't exactly something he ever had to practice.

At least not when it came to his Quirk.

When it came to regular hand to hand, he was fine. The worst he'd ever done was accidentally bruise Ojiro's ribs. Something his fellow karateka had taken as an excuse to wrestle him to the ground, knock his head spinning, and then fallen over laughing when Izuku had gotten her in an arm bar and started tickling her.

He knew he couldn't overcome her tail. And Izuku did like to be creative when fighting.

But it was more than that, he was used to helping the younger students, and occasionally the interested parent or two, and that meant he had to be _controlled_. Hurting someone was always a possibility when training, no matter how many precautions you took, and the only way you could teach someone properly was with great discipline and self control.

"Master the Self." Izuku spat, cement dust thick on his tongue. "Kurokami-Sensei would be disgusted with me."

Huffing in frustration, he kicked a piece of cement into the air and lashed out with his unaugmented fist as hard as he could.

"Tch."

His knuckles were lightly scraped as the chunk of debris simply exploded.

"Why is this so hard? I can control One For All, but not my own Aura? It was just a few months ago and I couldn't even empower an entire arm. There's no way I've gotten that much stronger that I can't even turn it down."

Aura had always been a difficult Quirk to use. Not because of raw power, but because of how little he had to draw on.

When it first appeared, Izuku had barely enough to coat a finger in it. It had taken him years of discrete training and practice to make it grow enough to cover his entire arm with it. And even then, it would only ever last for a few seconds at most before flickering dead.

And then, all of a sudden, he could cover his entire body with it for minutes at a time.

One For All was truly an absurd Quirk.

But Toshinori had disagreed when he'd brought that up. No, All Might had been quite clear. This was where he _should_ have been. The only thing OFA had done was prompt his growth to return to the normal course of things. She'd even gone so far as to suggest that dedicated quirk training would have brought him to about two or three times the level he had achieved, if he'd been trained since he was a child.

Honestly, the only other people in class who had as much raw power as him were Kacchan, Fumikage, and Todoroki. They were all girls, of course, and that, for some reason, made him hesitant to approach them for advice. Well, that and the fact Kacchan still wanted to molest him.

His head was his! Not for her to keep in her lap!

"Are you finished punching things, Midoriya?"

Spinning around, the green haired boy loudly stuttered and turned bright red.

"S-S-Shouto!? Ah, I'm sorry, was I monopolizing Cementoss-Sensei's time." Rapidly bowing, he almost performed a dogeiza. "I shouldn't have been so selfish like that. I'm truly sorry!"

A slightly cool hand patted his head.

"Don't worry. The rest of the class just watched a little when you started ripping heads off. Bakugou was quite proud of you." Izuku's bow deepened and the half and half just tilted her head. "It's not really something to concern yourself with. A lot of people struggle with controlling their quirks. And you're like me, you have two don't you?"

Freezing, Izuku paled and was utterly, totally terrified.

"You're really lucky, you know? An Enhancer type plus your Aura. To have such compatible parents… that's a one in a million occurrence. Though I suppose Bakugou is like that too. Hmm. No matter. I was wondering, though, if you wanted to… discuss the control issues you seem to be having."

Straightening up, Izuku heaved a very, very silent sigh of relief as Shoto studied a very interesting splinter of cement, the rest of the class caught up in their own super moves.

"I would like that very much!" Dates, he could handle. Dates, or at least spending time with women, was something he'd done almost all of his life. "There's a nice barbeque place I know of. It's great for friends to hang out and we can study there too."

So long as Toshinori's quirk wasn't revealed… so long as his idol, and her weakness, wasn't revealed, Izuku would go on any number of dates.

"Now tell me." The di-chromatic girl started "What is the problem you are having?"

"I suppose it boils down to one major problem. When I call up my Aura, it just… responds. It's over eager. And I always end up using way, way too much. Even when I'm just trying to accelerate myself, I end up tearing out huge chunks of the floor."

"Oh." Todoroki sounded surprised. "That's easy."

"What." Izuku blinked in confusion.

"You need more practice."

Sighing, Izuku nodded.

"I'm trying, but it's just not clicking. No matter how much I try to control my output-"

"Don't control it." Shaking her head, the red and white haired girl smiled. "Your quirk isn't a knife or a gun. It's part of you. Like you hand or your foot. When you use your martial arts, you don't tell your limbs to not hit the enemy too hard. You just tell them to hit the enemy _hard enough_, right?"

"I suppose."

Shoutou quirked an eyebrow at his hesitant tone.

"Watch this."

Lifting up a single finger, a thin stream of fire, about the size of a pinhead, rocketed into the sky. Without doing more than quirking her finger, the thin stream of flame began to twist and contort, dancing about the teens, before climbing up the girl's arm. Somehow, miraculously, the fire didn't seem to do more than get her training costume a bit sooty.

"To master your quirk, you must be able to control it at 1% or 100% and everything between. I have a few exercises that might help with that. But, basically, the goal is to be able to concentrate all of your power into a single finger or distribute it evenly throughout your body. If you can wield your full power without hurting yourself, then it will have become as natural to you as your own strength. Got me?'

Izuku tried. He really did.

He failed.

"Shouto… that was… _so. Freaking. AMAZING!_"

Cheeks flushed, eyes wide in awe, Izuku almost leapt in place as he gushed!

"That was so awesome, how you managed to make those shapes! I saw dragons and a phoenix and lions and it was so freaking _awesome!_ And then you covered yourself in flame without burning yourself, even though your hair looked like a giant mane of fire and I was like 'Woah' but you were like 'this is easy' and I was like 'holy crap'!" Green eyes sparkling in childish delight, three people somehow heard what Izuku said next. "That was almost as cool as All Might!"

The young girl blushed, cheeks suddenly flush from what she'd assert was heat. A sickly woman, a fading symbol herself, would smile and chuckle at her fanboy and successor. The last one had far more… volatile reaction.

Of the explosive kind.

"Oi, Half-Cooked bitch! What are you doing so close to Deku?!"

Katsu Bakugo blasted towards them like a rocket, lips pulled back into an animalistic snarl. Though the other girl seemed unaffected, meeting her stampede with an unimpressive stare.

"I was giving him advice!"

"The Hell you were! You were trying to invite him to something, weren't you!"

"He invited me."

"So, you admit it!"

Izuku felt his brow twitch in annoyance as his childhood friend exploded. Quite literally so, at that. The smoke and debris covering the entirety of Gym Gamma.

This was going to be one of _those _days, wasn't it?

* * *

"Have you prepared the flowers?"

"Yes mom."

"And your handkerchief?"

"Got it."

"...Do you have protection?"

"Mom!"

Inko giggled, taking a small turn as their car trudged along the street at a placid speed. The lights of the city moving away as they neared one of the farther away 'noble' neighborhoods. Houses became more traditional, and of older design. Streets seemed to shift from concrete to stone and there was a crisp breeze ruffling their hair.

The air felt clean and unburdened.

Quite a contrast from Masutafu's.

"Come now, let your old mother have some fun. It's been so long since you had one of your dates!"

Izuku felt an embarrassed heat creep up his cheeks. The lightly powdered skin nearly glowing under the fading orange light of the sunset.

"You know I was trying to focus on school. It would be hard to juggle that and dating." He defended.

And it was true.

Back in Aldera, Izuku had dated on and off as part of his 'practice' for the future at his mother's urging. Nothing serious ever came off it, sure. And more than one of his not-dates had been crashed by a volatile Bakugo during those days. But at the end of the day… it was fun. He was a boy, without a doubt, and as much as he hated being treated like a toy or a prize or, and the very thought made him shudder, like one of the "little meats" that you sometimes saw on the arm of a rich woman, having fun was nice.

Having fun with pretty girls who treated him with respect and, when they didn't want to skip straight to third base, wanted to treat him like a person? That was even better.

"Shoto is smart and strong, plus her mom is the #1 Hero. For someone like me, with the amount of responsibility she has on her shoulders, anything serious is impossible. But if I can help her relax for a bit, that's good too." Izuku sighed. "All of my classmates work hard. And while I'm not saying I should pimp myself, study dates are harmless and seeing as how I'm the only boy in 1A it's something only I can really do."

"So you have protection?"

"Mooooom!"

Izuku buried his face in his hands.

"I do."

It was five minutes later, Inko still chuckling from time to time, when they pulled up.

"Last check Izuku. Bus pass?"

"Yup!"

"Phone and wallet?"

"Yes mam!"

"Reservation for the restaurant?"

"In my wallet."

"Bookbag?"

Izuku waved it at her.

"Well alright then." The rather well put together middle aged woman sighed. "I was worried, you know. With how often you were getting hurt at that school of yours. But if you're going out like this, then I think it's a good sign."

Smiling, she hugged her son goodbye and drove off, leaving Izuku, who was wearing a nice, dark green button down shirt, pressed black slacks, and nice enough dress shoes, standing there, fidgeting nervously, as he walked up to the gate entrance of the Todoroki compound.

It was, in one word, opulent.

Endeavor, the former number two and now newly crowned number one hero, was well known for her political influence and pedigree. She had a background which made even the most accomplished of heroes green with envy, and enough money to live out her life comfortably all the while providing for the next three or four generations.

Her signature crest was even emblazoned over the gate. A simple white snowflake a black sun. Elegant. And it was recognized across all of Japan.

There was a faint creek on the left side of the massive wooden structure moved, allowing the young green haired boy to catch a glimpse of the inner garden and the house itself. Just the distance between the gate and the house was enough to fit Izuku's apartment twice over and still have room left.

Not that he had much time to dwell on it, as a familiar head of red and white hair walked towards him. Causing his mouth to unhinge itself from his head and hit the floor at what might have been terminal velocity.

"I'm sorry. It appears this is too much. If you'll give me a moment, I'll change."

"N-n-n-no! This is fine!" Stumbling over his feet, Izuku frantically waved his hands. "I'm sorry. If I'd known you were going to dress… like _this_ I'd have gotten us a more appropriate reservation. And dressed better. And, well, is it better to try and fail or not try at all in this situation?"

Shoto shrugged.

"Fuyuki said I should wear this. Forced it on me when she heard I was going out with a boy tonight. I told her we were going to be studying, but…."

Izuku took a moment to just observe his friend.

Traditional might have been an _understatement_.

His fellow hero in training wore a bright red kimono with a golden and blue lining. The material itself had stitching shaped like birds on it. That and the fact that there were_ layers_ to it made it seem like the young woman was getting ready for an imperial audience, not a simple date at a barbecue restaurant.

And… was that a wooden umbrella next to her?!

'Should I ask mom to bring my yukata?' He seriously considered, feeling nearly naked in comparison to the elementalist. Eventually he swallowed his sudden, intense anxiety.

"You look nice."

Tilting her head, the red and white girl asked a single question.

"Just nice?"

There was no heat in her tone, just confusion.

"Ah… well, not really." Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. "You look way, way better than nice. But you're probably used to people telling you that. 'Oh, Todoroki-Sama, you're a vision of heaven'!" He shrugged. "You're not the kind of person to like that sort of thing. So yeah. Just… nice."

Despite not stuttering, Izuku was still blushing. And having a lot of trouble not running over and staring in awe at the _seven layered kimono_.

'I think it's silk too.'

"Thank you, Izuku. That means a lot to me." Shoto's gentle smile made his heart skip a beat. Her scar crinkled slightly while there was an infinitesimal uptick in the corner's of her lip. More importantly, though, was the way her eyes relaxed. "Though I will change. I don't want to seem so overdressed."

Shaking his head, Izuku politely declined the offer.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue. The restaurant I got us a spot at apparently works with U.A. Students get a discount and, because of who we both are, they didn't mind giving us a more private area."

Izuku tactfully avoided mentioning how the _man_ on the other end of the phone had gushed endlessly about how "youthful and energetic" their showing at the sports festival was. Or that he had promised the man a sparring match of all things as partial compensation.

"So long as you still wanna head out with me dressed like this, I'd say we're ready to go."

"Lead the way, Midoriya-kun."

Izuku ignored the brief flash of warmth rushing through his cheeks. He also barely avoided stumbling too!

The night was already off to a great start!

Yakinikuzan was a regularly attended and highly praised establishment which dedicated itself to customer service and quality food. Or at least that's what their pamphlets said. In reality, it was one of the priciest places to eat in Masutafu, but not pricey enough that it kept people from wanting to go there.

It could be best described as a large hallway, with booths and tables lining up both ends of it. Waiters and servers milled about, carrying plates of meats and vegetables. Which the customers grilled on their own on massive heated stones placed at the center of their tables.

Apparently it was the work of a quirk, something Izuku would have to ask about later.  
The front desk attendant, as it turned out, was a bit of a fan.

"Wow! Midoriya Izuku?! The Midoriya Izuku?! Man, I am your biggest fan! Can I have your autograph. Wait no. I forgot the signbook back at home. Would a napkin suffice?" She banged her head on the wood. "What's wrong with me? Of course it won't!"

Shoto fished out a stock card, fingers darting into her sleeve.

"Will this do, miss?"

Izuku signed an autograph, the young lady eagerly getting Shoto's as well, before walking them back to a private table.

"Your waiter will be Jun tonight, she'll be over in a minute. I'm Lee Dai, sorry about that, but my dad's the guy you spoke to on the phone. And you two, well, pardon my language, but _damn_! The way you two went at it during the sports festival was amazing! Let me know if you need anything and have a pleasant evening."

Still somewhat confused, the two teens simply watched as the young woman walked off, muttering under her breath about how jealous her father would be and letting out quite the evil laugh.

"She was quite… enthusiastic." He mumbled.

"Such is the price for fame, it seems." His date for the night concurred.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, idly leafing through the menus and the various offers. It was an amicable silence, the sort one would get from a trusted companion rather than the tense standoff most would portray it as.

"So" He pulled out his notebook. "What have you brought to study?"

"Mathematics" The bi-chromatic girl brought out her own. "Ectoplasm-sensei has been… relentless as of lately."

"For me its Art. I just can't seem to get Midnight's lectures to stick."

Mostly, it had to do with the fact she taught heroic art history and media presence. The woman was good, and had a solid grasp on what constituted a good image and reputation. Her own dubious beginnings notwithstanding.

Unfortunately, most of it didn't apply to him.

What with being the only man to try and become a hero in the last twenty years. Or at least the only one to actually get into a school and not immediately fail out.

He didn't need to learn how to capture attention, when everyone in the country was watching him silently. And it wasn't like most of them didn't already have an opinion about him. Favorable or otherwise.

"Did you know she wanted me to make my hero costume smaller? Something about giving the public what it wants or something?" His eyes scrunched up, making him look like a green hamster trying to intimidate a particularly tough treat. "I almost snapped at her."

"In my mother's line of work, she's never actually participated in… that side of men. Other than the TV of course." Shoto took a drink of her sweet tea, some American blend that was tasty but too sugary. Izuku thought it was almost like a dessert. "But I've seen what some of the other heroes do. The ones with money at least. I'm glad you're not like that."

Shoto inclined her head.

"It would be a waste of your talent." Her smile, this time with just a _hint_ of mischief, returned. "Besides, neither you nor I have Yaoyorozu's assets."

"She's more confident than me, that's for sure!" Izuku chuckled at his friend's joke, more than silently agreeing with her. "I heard a rumor from Hagakure that she wanted to show even more skin initially. Not that I don't see _why_, but I'm worried that her lack of awareness of just how pretty she is might get her in trouble."

"Hmm. I thought you two didn't get along that well. Are you friends?"

The girl's question was earnest and so Izuku was unsure how to answer. Taking a second, he slowly teased the words out.

"I think… she's old fashioned." He steepled his fingers and thought deeply about how he wanted to express his feelings. "Yaoyorozu, Momo, treats me like I'm a prince. Not like a pretty boy, per se. But like I'm something fragile. That frustrates me. What compounds the fact is that she's so earnest and even a bit innocent. She's like a dame in shining armor. An onna-bugeisha I suppose. But I like her." Izuku's look of concentration turned into a sly grin. "And for more than just the amount of skin she shows."

This time it was Shoto who giggled. It was short, just a small noise through closed lips, but izuku counted it as a win.

"She is a powerful one, indeed. If she had more faith in herself, and perhaps a touch more aggression, she'd easily be a threat to even us in direct combat." Todoroki brushed a stray strand of red hair out of her eyes. "But frankly, I think all of our class has a lot of potential. Hagakure and Tsuyu and Sero especially. Their quirks haven't been fully exploited yet, by them or the teachers, and I think they'll be especially dangerous when they are."

"I suppose I get the first two, but Sero can't strengthen her tape directly, can she?"

Izuku's question got a wry grin out of his companion.

"Imagine if Sero had the agility to dodge my attacks or layer me in tape or simply the time to set up an ambush. She's the kind of hero who can punch way above her weight when she has prep time."

Fingers twitching, Izuku had to fight the urge to begin a major analysis spree. The kind that saw him filling up a dozen pages in rapid succession. Instead he nodded.

"That sounds right. But tonight's not about them." This wasn't his first date after all. "So I think I know what I want. Do you wanna order and then get started on that maths homework?"

"I would like that."

Customer service was as advertised, excellent all around. With barely any downtime between ordering their course meals and eating the small appetizers, the two students spent most of their time discussing school life, their subjects, and heroes in general.

It felt… different yet familiar.

Like how he spent lunch time with Ojiro and Uraraka, discussing the exact same things. Yet with the ambiance changed, it felt less like simple conversation and more like actual bonding between the two hero trainees.

Before they knew it, they were halfway through the course, and homework had mostly been forgotten in favor of more… personal subjects.

"So, your left side grows only white hair, and your right side only red hair?"

"Yes, if you look closely you will notice my right arm always seems a shade darker than my left one. It's not much of a bother."

"Talk about Half-and-Half." Izuku whistled.

"What about you? Do you have any throwbacks?"

Throwbacks, better known as hereditary physical mutations, were minor and mostly unimportant features most humans carried nowadays. Unlike quirks, Throwbacks didn't concede any form of ability and were just aesthetic in nature.

"Well, green hair wasn't exactly the norm back when quirks were new. I also have this weird floating joint in one of my toes. It's _almost_ like the bone people born quirkless still have. Small miracles, right?"

Izuku began to nibble on a particularly tender beef skewer, doing his best not to look like an animal as the meat melted in his mouth. Shoto, for her part, had rolled up her sleeves, and was swiftly chowing down on a medley of mixed vegetables and chicken. Somehow, she managed this with a grace and elegance Izuku found both admirable and worthy of intense envy.

Fifteen minutes later, when most of the main course had been cleared away, the two were sitting on the same side of the booth, bent over a notebook.

"So what you do is simply the radical to the common ratio, like how 49 and 21 both break down by 7, and then you just work it across. But don't forget to double check your numbers. It's easy to make a small mistake and get the whole thing wrong."

Smiling, Izuku watched as the problem finally clicked for Shoto, the girl's hand flying across the page as she tore forward.

"Ah! I see now! You just do this… then this… and this. That simplifies to three, this is… five, and then the answer is the square root of two over two!"

"Yup! Plus Ultra indeed."

This terrible joke earned Izuku a snort of amusement, Shoto covering her mouth in surprise.

"It's all good, it's all good. So, now that that's covered, could you help me with that essay on the supply company-hero agency relationships?"

"Sure, let me just pull up a few dates and I'll take a read. By the way, did you start with the Hokusai - yes?"

Lee Dai, the enthusiastic greeter whom they'd given an autograph to, had returned to the table.

"I apologize deeply for this, but Todoroki, mam, your mother has invited the two of you to the VIP lounge upstairs. I… mean no disrespect, but if you'd prefer I can… be too late to inform you. And you would have already paid." The woman shuffled in place. "Your mother is a very intimidating woman, but, well, my father and I are fans. And this is clearly young love. So, which would you prefer?"

The fire wielder let out a heavy sigh.

"Of all days for her to be here…"

"She's a regular?" Izuku looked at her, concern clear in his green orbs.

"It's not your fault. The restaurant is close to home. She must have passed us on the way in."

Shoto and Izuku shared a look, the green haired boy inclining his head slightly. At a shake of his friends head, Izuku gave a shrug, getting a slight huff this time.

"Don't worry. I met her at the sports festival." Izuku gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. "And I've dealt with worse than her before."

A huff was an answer. If not one Izuku liked receiving.

"I had hoped you'd tell me you wanted to leave." Sliding her notebook and pens back into her sleeves, Shoto stood up. "Well come on you foolish boy. Let's go see what my mother wants."

Frowning, not at the insult but at the dead tone in which his friend spoke, Izuku followed Shoto to meet her mother for a second time.

The short walk felt more like a military march, the young heroine to be ramrod straight, the hostess cringing slightly, and Izuku somewhat confused. Still, the door opened and Izuku was struck by the sheer… difference between Endeavor and Toshinori.

His mentor was a warm, welcoming woman. A pillar which represented the hope that others might live peacefully. Even after losing her quirk, the Symbol of Peace still carried that strength, that aura which made her seem larger than life.

She shone like the sun.

The room, however, was cold.

With lights turned to a low setting, Izuku could barely see his breath misting over as they stepped into the lounge.

It appeared to be modelled in the formal japanese style. With different floorings and no furniture in sight aside from the large table at the center. Heat seemed to emanate from it like smoke, a sharp contrast with the chilled air surrounding them. Izuku could also see a monitor hanging over the opposite wall, though it was turned off.

Sitting at the table was the current 1# Hero.

Endeavor.

Unlike her normal ,military-themed costume, the woman wore a kimono similar to Shotos. A simple jet black version emblazoned with the signature snowflake crest, tied around her waist by a simple white sash which shimmered like quicksilver under the faint light.

She looked pale, as always, slight make up bringing out the woman's aristocratic features.

Her hair, normally done into elaborate buns or braids, was left untied. A curtain of pure white crashing over her back much like a pair of wings.

Her eyes, twin pools of charcoal black, zeroed in on them the moment they entered the room.

Izuku was attracted. He was repelled.

Power emanated from her, an aura of crackling frost that kept her clothes and skin and hair flawless. Even as she casually lounged in front of a thrumming grill, a half empty bowl of sake casually reclining in her slender, elegant fingers and a small plate of meat and vegetable skewers cooking in front of her, she screamed strength. Only a single strand of hair was out of place, a veneer of frost letting it shine in the dim light.

"It's good to see you again, mam." Izuku gave a light bow.

The woman inclined her head ever so slightly.

"I see you are in good health, Midoriya. No more broken bones, I've heard." Her tone was measured, almost mechanical. Formal and to the point, with a simple jest at the end feeling more like an imperious questioning.

"You have grown stronger." She noted, eyes roaming his body like one would a fine armament. A finely sharpened blade.

'At least she isn't eye fucking me. Considering I've met an honest fan and no one's ogling me… this is a good night."

"I am trying, mam. We're all aiming for the #1 spot, after all."

It was a bit of a gamble, making a thinly veiled challenge, but it seems tonight was his lucky night.

"Hmmph. Good, you have a spine." She swallowed the rest of the wine, Izuku's eyes inexorably drawn to her smooth neck. "If you'd been like the rest of the men that have approached my daughter, I might have bought you for a week or two and then kicked you to the curb." The woman nodded. "But you're strong, have a strong quirk, and seem to have potential. I suppose I approve of this match Shoto."

The silent girl stiffened, a smattering of red blooming over her cheeks at the thought. Her mouth set into a thin line, however.

"You have us mistaken, Mother. We are not… involved romantically."

Endeavor regarded them curiously, head tilting ever so slightly. As if trying to decipher a particularly puzzling enigma.

"So you say. A waste nonetheless. My offer still stands, Midoriya. Have you given it any thought since we last met?"

"No thank you." Izuku smiled, ignoring the twinge of offense he always took when someone asked if he was a prostitute. This was Japan, highschoolers engaged in compensated dating all the time. Hero students just got a higher premium. "Your daughter is a friend and a team mate. Bringing money into the situation would be a mistake, I think."

He bowed nonetheless. Women tended to take offense when you told them to fuck off, politely or otherwise.

The woman poured herself another bowl of wine.

"Hardly. You'll need to marry sooner or later. With your quirk, you'll be facing a lot of competition for your hand. And your descendants." She swallowed another mouthful. "Being a hero is not the work of a single generation, but of many, each hoping to build upon what was left by the previous one." Endeavor grimaced. "Both my mother and grandmother were heroes. They built the foundations for our family's Agency. Which is actually what I invited you here to talk about, Shoto. Though I suppose… it's acceptable for you to hear this as well, Midoriya."

Pulling her food off the grill, she took a bite and offered for the two to sit down. Izuku looked at Shoto for the goahead. This was her mother and Izuku had her back. In this and anything else. Her small nod told him she got the message.

"I suppose you are aware of the recent incident that took place at Deika City. A supposed attack by the League of Villains."

The two teenagers stiffened.

"Since All Might's retirement, criminal activity has spiked. More and more villains have made themselves known over the past few months than there have been records for nearly a decade. The hero safety commission believes it will be only a matter of time before the League makes a move."

She sipped from her cup.

"And that whatever they have planned, is _big_."

"Define 'big', please." Izuku remained standing, but another glance at Shoto and the young woman acquiesced. Ten seconds later, the two, perhaps sitting a bit closer than was strictly necessary, were staring at Endeavor as the woman took her time responding.

There was a faint crack, the sound of ice shattering as a layer of frost peeled off the older hero's face.

Revealing an angry red scar covering the entirety of the left side of her face.

"We have reached the conclusion that the High End's attack was a test of sorts. That the League would not release such a powerful piece as a sacrifice, throw away such a devastating weapon unless they accounted for its loss."

Briefly touching it, the temperature around the group seemed to drop.

"Can you think of a reason why that would be?"

Shoto spoke first.

"They were testing you, testing the new #1."

Tapping his knee against Shoto's, Izuku shook his head.

"More than that, I think. I watched the video of the High End. Took notes. Performed an analysis. He-it, whatever that thing is, had at least four quirks and maybe six. The league was testing all of us."

Endeavor's lips curled in a gaunt smile.

"Young Midoriya… I really do wish you'd marry my daughter." The woman let her finger drop away from her scar. "Hawks was there too. Without her, I may very well have died. So… if their sacrifice can ambush and kill the #1, what does that mean for you two?"

Izuku's eyes narrowed in focus. Multiple scenarios running through his mind as he attempted to grasp the information and process it.

Comparing it to martial arts, what the league did was to deliver a heavy, if telegraphed, punch. It did damage but carried much risk if countered. Endeavor's victory over it meant that the attack had failed. Yet the Deika City incident pointed to a higher degree of activity than an enemy reeling from a loss should be capable of.

Unless….

"Unless… it was a feint."

Quickly, the boy scrambled for his backpack, pulling one of his notebooks. Frantically putting down various notes. Circling important bits, all the while connecting them to the center of the page.

Covered with question marks.

Shoto shook her head.

"You don't make a feint like that unless you have another move lined up. Remember how we knocked each other back? No, I think that's what this was. It was a test. And the League doesn't have the capability to carry it out. Izuku, do you think-?"

He nodded.

"I do. If this was a test, whether it succeeded or failed to any degree, then that means someone was watching. Collecting data. Endeavor." The two teens turned to the smirking Number One Hero in all of Japan.

"Does this mean that the League of Villains has new allies?"

Endeavor gave her daughter an almost arrogant grin.

"Old or new doesn't matter. What matters is that we know, for a fact, they have two things." She took a swig of wine, closing her eyes and savoring the taste. "And I want you to know I called them idiots for keeping this information from you children. The League has clearly marked you. But they now have weapons capable of destroying quirks."

Izuku nodded.

"The Yakuza bastards."

He was still angry about Eri, the poor thing, and Lemillion. He and Togata had spoken, at length, about what it was like being "quirkless". At least publically.

"And a way to… clone quirks."

Shoto was the one to get this one.

"All of the Nomu had healing factors. _All _of them. But how? I thought that was basically impossible. Yet they have so many rare powers, what else could it be?"

Izuku shook his head.

"It should also be impossible for an ageless woman to steal quirks, but that did not stop All For One. If we set our expectations based on what we think is possible we open ourselves to… unpleasant surprises."

"I don't agree with your Master on everything, Midoriya, but Toshinori - All Might, she was strong, swift, and never gave up. If even she couldn't kill that _freak_, then I fear what abomination All For One has given birth to." Endeavor's praise was anything but hollow. That scared Izuku more than anything else.

There was a tense silence, the cackling of the grill the only distraction from the heavy words being exchanged.

Though that didn't deter Endeavor from… breaking the ice.

"It is for those reasons and many more that the Commission has petitioned that various heroes, particularly those of high rank, take part in U.A.'s annual work experience programs. There is change in the air and it is our hope that you will be prepared when this storm finally hits."

She reached for a bundle of loose pages, forms by the look of them, and handed them to the teenage duo.

"It is why I am offering to include the two of you, as well as one more, as interns this coming season."

Shoto frowned but took the papers.

"Thank you, mam. It'll be an honor to train with the current #1."

Izuku smiled and gave the heroine a small bow. Shoto took his hand.

"Come on Izuku. Let's go."

Giving a short goodbye, Izuku followed his friend, stopping her only long enough to pay for dinner, and waited until they were walking along a dimly lit street, vaguely in the direction of her house, before speaking again.

"That was… interesting." He started. "It was easier to speak to her this time around, at least."

Considering how the first time he met the then number two hero, she'd demanded he marry his classmate and handed him a hardback marriage proposal, at least. There were very few ways the woman could find to top that bad first impression.

She still wanted him to become her son in law. But now she wasn't as overbearing as possible about it. Just… traditionally frustrating. The same way some of the girls at school could get near him.

Only a thousand times more intense.

"You know, your mom is different than she was." Shoto gave him a "look". He shrugged. "It's the truth. Even you have to admit it. I saw how much you wanted to say to her." The white and red haired girl stopped walking. "Take your time. If you rush it, you'll just end up hating her more. Might even hate yourself too. Now come on, I need to get you home."

Sighing, more huffing really, Shoto slid across a patch of ice she created; the action itself a statement.

"And since when are you an expert on family matters?"

Izuku smiled and shook his head.

"I'm not. But I am an expert at carrying grudges." His smile turned wry. "Bakugou… the school… even you a little. I'm still jealous. With how easy it is for you, for them. Kacchan is a dragon, like and old timey western one. Maybe an Oni too. It's just who she is. The middle school was willing to trade a bit of arm candy for a future pro hero, cold logic at its finest. And even you have the luxury of a mother you can hate."

"Living under _Endeavor_ was hardly a luxury!"

Shoto's words had enough bite in them that it was clear this discussion was getting a little bit _too _heated.

"Of course not. To you at least. But even at your weakest, you always had a path forward." He sighed. Izuku sounded like an old, old man when he next spoke.

"When I outed myself as a boy back at the entrance exam, I thought that was it." He shivered. "I'd gotten stuck in a rut. There are horror stories out there. Enough of them some of them _seem_ true. Regardless of if they are or are not, I was worried I was about to be arrested. Partly for having an unregistered quirk, partly for misfiling official paperwork, and partly for illegal quirk use. There's precedent for all that."

Shrugging, Izuku stuck his hands in his pockets and sent a piece of rock flying off into the distance. "There was a… non zero chance I'd be placed into 'protective custody' at that point. And that euphemism means I'd just be whored out by the government instead of some billionaire. So yeah, from where I'm standing, even with _all_ of what she did to you, Endeavor is… a luxury. She's trying. Don't force yourself. But don't hate her so much you never give yourself a chance either."

Things were quiet for a long, long time then.

Shoto stopped walking, her eyes focused on the ground. She seemed to be struggling with something, before coming to a decision.

"I had a father once, Midoriya. Not in the same way most of the girls at U.A. Not a temporary breeder to help her mothers get a stronger kid. I had an actual father, who loved me and cared about who I was and what I wanted."

A heat wave seemed to wash over them, the air becoming dry and stuffy.

"He wasn't always perfect. Sometimes he would wall himself away from the world. Try to pretend we didn't exist. That he hadn't been sold off like some head of cattle to an unfeeling woman who used him until she had no need anymore." Her hand reached for the scarring around her eye.

"But he cared. He loved us. And we just stood around as he got worse and worse. Then, one day, there was a fight and he tried to leave. Things got… ugly. He and mother threw their quirks around."

He already knew this story. Knew it from when they first talked at the Sports Festival. The story of how a scared little girl thought her family was falling apart and tried to stop her parents from fighting.

And was hurt in the crossfire.

"I didn't tell you what happened later. Not that it was important at the time. Father was injured. He'd suffered some sort of nervous breakdown. So mother decided he was suddenly a danger to the family, and sent him to a private hospital off by the countryside. Said that they were working on making him feel better and never brought him up again."

Shoto wasn't crying. She wasn't that kind of person. But her eyes were so, so dull.

"I'm sorry." Izuku wrapped his arms around her. "For pretending like I knew what you were going though. I just…." The right words were just out of his reach. He tried anyways. "The thought of losing my mother terrifies me. And the idea of you… letting this chance slip through your fingers, out of fear or anger or any justified hatred, well, that scares me too. I'm not saying you forget. But… are you sure you won't end up like how your mother used to be?"

Unsteady arms wrapped around his waist, Shoto leaning into Izuku's chest and letting out an almost exhausted sigh.

"Thank you."

Tilting her head up, the dichromatic girl pressed her lips against his. Izuku shivered, the warmth of her body all of sudden very intense. Still, neither moved to deepen the embrace. This was a simple comfort, neither wanted to ruin this moment.

"Thank you, Izuku."

Their kiss was broken.

"I'm not sure I can promise you anything. But I'll think about what you said."

She pressed her lips to his once more.

"Walk me home?"

Shoto's eyes were still a little sad, but they weren't dull anymore. They weren't dead. Izuku smiled, taking her hand once more.

"Gladly."

"So… um." Todoroki blushed, looking down. "Do you mind not mentioning… all of that to the class. Not that I regret telling you, but…."

Squeezing her hand, Izuku nodded.

"It's your story to share. Don't worry, I can keep a secret. As for that kiss, well, maybe I might need to tell Kacchan."

Blushing almost as brightly as her hair, the elementalist didn't say anything. Instead choosing to simply lean against Izuku's shoulder. Both were quite happy.


	5. Eight Branches

**AN: Another day, another Izuku! In our coming marathon of one shot wonders, Wyvern and the Warhawk now present you another My Hero Academia alternative universe. This time without magic, I'm afraid.**

**AtW: it's a bit angsty, definitely a bit edgy, but we were bored and this seems amusing. Maybe it works, maybe it doesn't, either way, it's done. Hope you guys enjoy it.**

* * *

**Eight Branches - One Shot**

* * *

Izuku hated family gatherings.

Hated the smell of pipe smoke and the cloying, drifting stench of alcohol.

Hated the clinking of silverware, the rowdy shouting of a crowd spiralling further and further down into insanity as they gorged themselves with the most expensive food, wore the most fancy clothes, and drank the rarest drinks. Shouting one over the other as they tried to make themselves heard over the roar of the crowd.

For as long as he could remember, Izuku had never felt safe near his relatives.

Some would say he was just a morally upright human being. The kind of young man who didn't, perhaps even _couldn't_, condone the debauchery of the beasts who surrounded him.

He would disagree with them. Most vehemently in fact.

Because Izuku loved them from the bottom of his heart.

He loved his aunt, Gumoko, who had a fashion design company of her own and always brought the best and newest releases to share with him and his cousins - always playful and good natured as she helped them fit into their often quite crazy clothes.

He loved his cousin, Momonga, and his fixation with hanging from the ceiling. He would always make the green haired boy laugh with his pranks.

They were his family, they loved him and he loved them.

But that doesn't mean they were good people.

So he hated them.

Hated the way his uncles would discuss their latest hits and assassinations. Hated the way his cousin would brag about becoming a politician's mistress, just to ruin his reputation. Hated how someone else bragged about how much money they extorted from a rich family, or how they had massacred a small time gang for refusing to work for them, or how a new group of whores were being pimped.

Yes, there was not a point in his life when Izuku Midoriya could not have said with absolute certainty that he hated his family.

Because he hated himself too. How his world was warped, how the people around him were deformed, and what that meant for everyone and everything around them. Because he truly, deeply, _intimately_ hated what they were.

Criminals.

Monsters.

Villains.

The word left a bad taste in his mouth, which he tried to wash out with the all too expensive champagne. He'd tried to refuse, but a servant had poured it for him. The pale, sparkling liquid sitting in a pure crystal glass. Closing his eyes, he swallowed his drink in a single gulp, hoping that would be enough to let him relax. But, even now, as he tried to ignore the New Year celebrations happening around him, his traitorous ears couldn't help but pick up on a few snippets of conversation every now and again.

"So I told him 'if you love me, then we can run away together'."

Another one of his relatives, a large man with a crocodile tail, laughed boisterously, sucking on a hooka and letting out a cloud of hash smoke.

"And then you killed him!"

There was a giggle from his sister, an older woman with a long serpentine tongue.

"Aye, then I killed him! You should have seen the look on his face, it was so delicious I almost came."

After she gave a wistful sigh, the sibling gave another toast to "loving what you do" and downed their drinks, laughing merrily as they poked and prodded at each other. And for a moment, Izuku felt like asking who the man was. And if he should try to give the authorities an anonymous tip. Or at least let his family know what happened.

"You'll still be coming for my boy's piano concert, right?"

Izuku's breath caught on his throat.

"But of course! Someone has to take pictures after all! Can't trust you and your shakey hands to get a good photo." The sister poked her little brother teasingly, who growled angrily.

Though the lazy wag of his tail told Izuku it was all in good fun.

"You forget the lens on the camera one time and they never let you live it down."

"Of course not! It was my graduation party you big lug!"

As if to prove how eager they were to tease each other, the two descended into bickering again, and Izuku suddenly felt his urge to avenge the death of a poor man fizzle out. A weight settling on his shoulders as he walked by his mother's cousins.

He hated them.

They were cold blooded monsters who made a living by making others suffer, taking advantage of them and killing them as if it was completely natural. And yet he could never bring himself to do anything about it, because he loved them, as naturally as they loved him. And admitting that made him wither on the inside.

"Cousin! Cousin!" A small voice piped up, breaking into his thoughts.

Izuku looked down at the small snow-white fox boy as it pawed at his pants.

"Kyuukon, right?"

The small fox nodded cheerily, raising his arms. Izuku picked up his little cousin without hesitation, placing him on the long dinner table before watching as the young rascal scampered away towards an older man. An older gentleman who was covered head to toe on similar silver fur and had a long snouted face. But it was the ugly scar on the right cheek that let Izuku know who this man was.

"Mauriyama, the Number Six."

Laughing, the old fox pulled his boy into a bear hug, making the child laugh and squeal in delight as he was plucked from the table. Of course, it made the green haired young man wonder how many scenes like this the Number Six had prevented. As the head of the Eight Branches drug running operation, it was entirely likely that the number of families ruined by this man personally was in the four or five digits.

"If you can smoke it, shoot it, or snort it… the Yama brand will always be the best."

Glancing at the various groups, many of them smoking, he couldn't help but wonder how much of the opium, hash, marijuana, and tobacco had been provided by his many times distant cousin.

'Probably all of it. Why waste money buying from someone else. And besides, according to Grandfather it is an _Honor_ to contribute to the family.'

Hands shaking, he put the wine flute down before he snapped the incredibly expensive glass.

Suddenly, Momonga the squirrel boy dropped from the ceiling with a squeak, falling on top of a nearby table where a family of boar-like people were sitting together. The splatter of food flying everywhere as the expensive table creaked and broke down, priceless china and silverware flying everywhere as glass shattered all over the floor.

He quickly did the count.

Between the plates, the table, the silverware, and the food, Momonga had just squashed a small fortune.

Enough to feed a family for a month.

Or pay for someone's life to be saved.

All of it gone, in the blink of an eye.

"You know boyo, if you wanted some of the roast duck, all you had to do was ask!"

Clapping Momonga on the back, Juzo, the head of the boars, dropped the young man into the chair next to them and roared uproariously as waiters immediately brought them more food.

'At least Momo has the decency to blush.'

Indeed, the young lad's chubby cheeks were aflame. But, eager to not be rude, he did dig in with his much larger kin. Not that anyone would be denied anything tonight. Well, almost anyone. Business was still business after all.

"Damn your eyes Garumaru! I'll not sell for less than ten thousand a share and that's a steal. Just because you think the trade commission won't come down on your firm doesn't mean they won't come down on me. And besides, at that low a price I'd only make a five percent profit!"

Number Seven, Atsushi, a slim man that sported a hilariously bulbous nose, violently shook his head.

"But come on cuz, we're family, can't you give me a discount?"

Suddenly flaring a pair of massive, black wings the broker ended the discussion.

"Ten thousand is the family rate you dolt, now drink your wine and be happy. Otherwise I might decide to seduce your wife!"

Bowing his head, the other man, flushed with humiliation, withdrew. This, of course, left the crow to crow about his victory, being far more stereotypical than not at the moment. Pulling his wings back in, he continued to sip his wine and cut deals with his friends.

Being honest, scenes like these were a dime a dozen.

Feasts like the New Year's celebration weren't just a time for family reunion and merry making, but also an early start on the race to make as much money and success as possible amongst the Eight Branches. Contracts were signed, deals were made, alliances were shaped, and favors exchanged.

One requested to have her spouse's lover killed as easily as they spoke of the weather.

Another exchanged heavy wads of cash for substances that were illegal in more than half of the world's nations. Before handing half of it to their children as 'pocket money'.

And Izuku couldn't feel surprised.

Couldn't feel angry.

Because this was his life.

These were his relatives and that was the family business. Repulsive practices which the world looked down upon them for and atrocities they feared them for commiting were nothing but another notch to add to their belts, another chance at making success and earning favor.

No different from any other job.

This was a family of villains.

Izuku sighed. It was better not to swell on it.

Instead, he chose to double back and walk towards his table, mindful of his rowdy family members; children running and dashing in between the tables and adults mingling amongst themselves. It wasn't that hard to draw attention, he was too young to know most of his relatives that well, and they wouldn't care enough to talk to him unless his mother was around.

Speaking of her….

Sitting beside one of his aunts, a woman with large cat paws for hands, his mother seemed to he having a pleasant enough evening. Going by the wan smile etched into her flawless porcelain cheeks. Her eyes glinted with amusement as her sister went on about something or another, likely something he wouldn't approve of.

He filed that for later and took another look at his mother.

Inko Midoriya was amongst one of the most mature women of the family, having just recently reached the age of forty. Not that she looked like it. Oh no, the family's background of quirk marriages and long history of flawless breeding left his mother looking like she hadn't aged a day beyond her late twenties.

With long dark green hair, a mirror of his own, reaching well past the middle of her back, and accentuated by the very expensive and beautiful traditional garb, she looked not like a middle aged mother, but like a young lady in the spring of her youth.

His eyes were drawn to the two long ears standing atop her head, the light fut standing out from her hair by sheer contrast alone.

Never mind the fact they were a rabbit's floppy ears.

'The Rabbit Princess of the Eight Branches.' Or so she was referred to by his relatives. Some teasingly, some lustfully, some simply as an acknowledgement of the sheer amount of wealth she'd managed to accumulate over the years.

Much like _Kaguya-sama_, his mother had made herself into one of the most sought after women in Japan. She was a woman with legendary tastes and standards - the sort of which could only be satisfied by the powerful, the wealthy and the influential. A bit strange, in the objective sense, as she was, admittedly, attractive. But not a woman of legendary beauty.

Sure, her skin was smooth and soft, yes her hair shined and flowed, and of course her additional features gave her a uniquely exotic twist, but that was it. Her features were pretty, not mind blowing. Her smile was slightly uneven, her eyes a little too big, and her fingers a bit too long. Not that any of that slowed her down. Because she was an _intelligent_ woman, scary smart one could say, and she used that mind of hers to trap her prey.

If her target wanted a modern, fashionable woman - that is what he got. If they wanted a shy, quiet woman - that's what he got. If it was a powerful man who wanted a charming woman to rub his back and stroke his ego, well, conversation was the sharpest of his mother's knives.

Hair, makeup, clothes, smile, eyes, body posture, confidence, and conversation. Those were her "Eight Traps", each one perfectly designed to defeat the barriers any man, or woman, could hope to throw up.

He approached the table silently, his own pair of ears lazily twitching as he tried to tune out the ongoing conversation.

"Mother." He greeted her with a small, but sincere smile.

Which she returned tenfold.

"Ah, Izuku. Done with your walk?"

He nodded.

"I just wanted to see who was present tonight. And how they were doing." His mother's sharp eyes narrowed in thought, the older Midoriya's mind immediately catching the meaning behind his seemingly mundane comment.

'I know who is here and what they are up to.'

Spying was, first and foremost, something the two of them excelled at. One of the many uses for their quirk.

"I see. I'm glad you've taken the time to mingle. You tend to be so shy, after all." She teased him lightly, and he caught her meaning in turn.

'Do not act out of character. Stay away from attention.'

Izuku was fine with that.

"Why don't you have a drink and sit with me?"

That actually meant what she said. His mother liked doting on him as much as she could, just like she did the rest of his siblings when they were around.

"Mother, I'm 14."

That actually got a polite titter from his aunt, who cast her eyes around the room. This time he flushed slightly.

"Ah, yes. I've already had a glass of champagne. No more for me, thank you."

Looping her fingers through his, Inko pulled him down into a chair next to her.

"Isn't my boy so responsible? And he's even prettier than his mother! No idea how he ended up like that, considering his father looks like a lump of charcoal. But that bastard gave me a beautiful baby, so I don't mind too much."

Inko Midoriya didn't love her husband. She hadn't loved any of the other eight she'd had either. And when they died, it was usually in agony. Rich businessmen, politicians, bankers, even a colonel in the Japanese Territorial Forces. Each of them just as corrupt and influential as the rest.

Now the family, through the child she'd had with each one, controlled their wealth and their names.

"I don't think I've actually seen my father."

And that was the truth. Hisashi was some wannabe Yakuza operating out of Kyushu. He'd only been worth a woman of the Eight Branches lowering herself to touch him because he controlled a good portion of the opium flowing in and out of the southern Cliques on the Chinese mainland.

"Good." His mother snorted. "He was a bore. And he stunk of cheap wine. Still, he gave me you. So something had to come out of that halfbreed."

Izuku should have felt something when his mother dismissed his father.

A good son would. And of course, a good person would be appalled at the woman for using personal relationships for personal gain.

But of course, Izuku couldn't find it within himself to care.

Hisashi was merely another notch on his mother's belt. Another lover brought into the fold for the Family's benefit, only to be discarded once he had stopped being useful to them. And given how Izuku would be coming of age soon, the time where the man's usefulness would come to an end was fast approaching.

Why trust a stranger to run their business for the family when they had a perfectly suitable heir?

"I didn't see any of my brothers and sisters around. Were they busy?"

Inko smiled sadly.

"Outside the country, I'm afraid. With operations being expanded, it's to be expected that more of us would have to leave Japan. Grandfather cares not for their absence so long as they defend our interests."

A thought struck him, a wide pit opening in his gut.

"Will I have to leave, too?" He looked to the side, ashamed at the admission.

Before being gently pulled towards his mother, a serene smile radiating patience and love. Dainty fingertips caressing the boy's cheeks in reassurance.

"It need not be so. Grandfather is not unreasonable, and you are every bit your mother's son. There is no reason for him to deny a selfish request of mine. Of course, that means keeping your father around for longer." She clicked her tongue. "I suppose I can tolerate that so long as I don't have to sleep with him again. But, well, I'm sure we can figure something out. So long as you're useful to the family, it should be fine."

A sudden urge gripped him, to confess his secret plan and admit to the shameful desire that had been building inside of him for years. Opening his mouth, ready to ask for them to go somewhere private one of the men at the head table leapt to his feet and called out.

"Father! You're here! Welcome, welcome!"

Parting like the sea, the crowd swarmed at the edge of some invisible line as an old man walked into the still roaring party.

"My sons and daughters. My grandsons and granddaughters." His voice filled the room, a sibilant hiss almost and pregnant with immense power. "I am glad you have enjoyed yourselves. But now, it is time for our newest members to be presented." The crowd was too thick to see through, Izuku couldn't see the source of those powerful words. "So come, finish your meals, soon it will be time to receive the next generation!"

Finally, the crowd parted.

He was small. Maybe five feet tall. His eyes were dull and milky, but not blind. No, some flicker of light danced beneath a cataract shroud. It was dark, though, and full of a cruelty that almost stole Izuku's breath. Stolling forward, his feet seemed to glide across the carpet and his kimono, a pale blue disturbed only by the cloth of gold stitching in the shape of the Eight Branche's Mon, didn't so much as wrinkle as he moved. Even his hands and face, the only skin Izuku could see, were perfectly smooth. Like marble, even. Untouched by age or disease or time. And through it all, he radiated a sort of intensity that the almost placid smile on his face simply could not disabuse him of.

"Welcome my children, my beloved family."

Holding out his arms, as if to embrace them, the Yamata no Orochi called his family home.

* * *

Izuku shook with rage.

At least, that's what he told himself. Lips pale, eyes bloodshot, lip bleeding from where he'd bitten it in an attempt to stay silent - all of that implied an entirely different story. Because tonight had been his "debut", his "presentation" to the family. He had received his tattoo and his assignment. He now worked for Number 5.

Midoriya Izuku now followed after his mother.

Midoriya Izuku was now part of the oldest profession in the world.

The green haired boy that was staring at a smashed mirror, blood dripping from his cut knuckles, shard of debris sending pin pricks of pain through his clenched fist, did not want to be a whore.

"I know it's not what you wanted."

Inko stepped up behind him, strong arms wrapping around his chest.

"And it's not what I wanted for you either. But Grandfather's word is law and this is what he decided. It is a good thing that the choice was so clear, too, it means you will be very useful to the Family. Isn't that wonderful?"

She pulled him back, fingers rubbing his chest, words soothing in his ear.

"We'll even get to work together a bit, since I'm going to be your teacher. I'm sure you'll enjoy the attention too. A young man like you will be a smash hit with the ladies."

Pouting, she stepped back, rubbing his arms a bit.

"Well. I knew my baby had to grow up one day. Perhaps it was always meant to be like this."

Angry tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, but Izuku refused to cry. He wouldn't shame himself further. Letting his fringe fall in front of his eyes, he bowed his head. Desperate to acknowledge the care his mother was offering him, Izuku spoke in a near silent whisper.

"Yes ma'am."

It didn't fool either of them.

"Come here. Let's go to the sink and wash your hand off. Don't want the splinters stuck in there."

Dragging him away from his mess, dripping blood through the hallway, the two rabbits quietly walked into the kitchen and tended to his self-inflicted injury.

"You're lucky we heal so fast. A human would have to live with this."

Izuku's knuckles cracked back into place with audible snaps, it finally dawning on the boy that he had actually decided to do something a bit foolish. Wincing, he hung his head further. Frowning, Inko tapped the bottom of his chin, bringing his head up. Lightly slapping one of his cheeks, she then kissed the other.

"Punished and forgiven. Now, baby, please talk to me?"

He was blushing and, finally, cracked a smile.

"I guess I'm scared." Izuku's voice warbled slightly and his mother simply held his hand, lightly stroking his fingers, as the last signs of his previous bout of self mutilation faded. "It's not like… your life… I don't think less of you." His words were weak and false once more, but he meant them in his heart of hearts. "Never, ever. I refuse to think negatively of you. Even if you've done… things… for the Family. It's just, I wanted, I-"

Giving up with a sigh, his shoulders slumped.

"I know." Inko smiled, it was warm, most definitely sad, yet warm. Filled with the love only a mother could have for her son. "My role was never the most… glorious… and I would be lying if I said your reaction was different from mine back then."

Her fingers tousled his hair lightly.

"You have always been so selfless, always wanting to help others. Always wanting to prove yourself. And I know you must feel like this is the end of the world." Her emerald eyes glimmered. "But you will see there are still ways you can help. When your training begins, I will teach you the proper way to serve our Family. To become the truest version of yourself, much like I was."

Izuku wanted to protest.

He didn't want this! Didn't want to be sold like a piece of meat.

He wanted… to help people. To be someone people would feel safe around.

Because as much as he hated it, Izuku knew his placement wasn't done out of malicious intent. Orochi had not singled him out to become a pleasure doll out of sadistic desire to see him suffer. The Old Serpent merely saw the path as Izuku's chosen fate, the one area where he would succeed the most.

The green haired youth begged to differ. From the bottom of his heart, but couldn't deny the logic of it.

Unbeknownst to her child's inner turmoil, Inko continued to clean his wound, wiping away the dried blood with a warm washcloth. A placid smile worthy of a true Yamato Nadeshiko on full display as she hummed in thought.

"There will be changes when we return, Izuku. I will not lie. You will dislike them, and perhaps come to resent me for them. However, you must understand that our Lord's judgement is absolute. The path you have been given is one you must never stray from."

Her words broke no argument. Cold and hard as steel.

"The tattoo is more just than just a mark. It's his brand. Proof he owns you. Because that's the truth. Unlike humans, we aren't born with the… indulgence that is choice. We have a destiny laid out for us. Because that man can, and will, kill anyone who opposes him. Not even All Might could stop Grandfather. So it's better to simply accept what we are, his tools, and remember our Eight Knives. That is best."

She gave him another smile, this one a bit truer.

"But never forget I love you. And will always support you however I can."

* * *

Izuku's life had changed.

Just as promised.

From the moment Orochi's judgement had been passed, Izuku Midoriya stopped being a child, and became burdened with the truth of his circumstances. The reality of belonging to the Yamata Clan.

And to the Fifth Branch: Jorogumo.

True to the myth, those of the family who were assigned to it weren't trained to be fighters in the traditional sense. They weren't taught the management skills required by the white collars, nor were they given the connections to make contracts in the underbelly of society or sell illegal wares.

Their 'product' was altogether different.

Ever since Izuku's fate was decided, his life had been completely defined by the fifth branch. What he would study. What he would eat. The friends he could make, and which talents were to be developed. Even when training his body, there were strict guidelines in place to regulate how he should develop his body.

Because that was his sole possession.

His only worth.

Ten months had passed since that fateful evening, and Izuku could no longer say he recognized the reflection staring at him from the mirror.

Not that it was ever the same.

Yesterday, he'd had a short bob, a fashionable shirt that was tight at the cuffs and collar and loose everywhere else, and only a hint of lip gloss and eyeshadow. Just enough to bring out his features.

Right now, he was in a woman's kimono, a gorgeous green and white affair with nightingales made out in black and gold thread along his cuffs. Kohl highlighted the almond shape of his green eyes and ornate pins holding up the intricate bun his mother had just finished constructing. Looking at his lips, the cherry lipstick made his lips seem a little less thin and the green nail polish, color coated to match his eyes, made the soft, pink skin of his hands, now missing the callouses he'd spent years building, seem almost… virginal.

'I make a beautiful woman.'

Baring the edge of his neck, he applied the last hint of powder he needed, double checked that he had his knives hidden in his sleeves, and smiled.

'Good. No lipstick on my teeth this time.'

He stood up, rising from his seiza with perfect grace.

"You look wondrous baby."

His mother hugged him from behind, her embrace reminding him of his own flaw in this guise.

"I have no desire to disappoint you, Mother."

Thankfully, some men preferred their meat without breasts.

"You won't. Not after all the hard work you've put into your training these last two months. You're perfect."

She pressed her lips to his cheek, just enough that a fleck of her own lipstick transferred, but not enough to smudge either of their makeup.

"It did take me a month to learn how to sit." He gave Inko a wan smile. His rabbit ears perking up. "But I'm glad it was you who taught me."

Inko let her own ears drop to touch his.

"Come on. It's time for you to greet your guests."

Izuku didn't want to go. He knew what tonight was. It was his first time. And he really, really didn't want to go through with it.

A pair of lips met his own, his mother's shadow looming over him as the sudden contact broke him out of his thoughts and into simply feeling every inch of the soft skin and the taste of lipstick. Unbidden, his heart grew steady as the anxiety was dispelled by the scent of his mother's breath.

He blinked. And it was over.

Inko favored him with a secretive smile, thin and barely visible.

"Remember your training, steady your heart. You are no longer a child Izuku, you are one of us, and it is time you prove it."

Her eyes were hard and cold and sad and it seemed like her heart was breaking. Looking at his mother, Izuku finally saw the tool underneath. The killer, the murderer, the whore. And he saw how much she was hurting.

"Thank you."

He hugged her.

"For everything."

His words were spoken into her chest, but she heard them. Izuku heard her swallow.

"Go… now. You'll be late. You don't want to start like that."

Izuku killed his heart. He stabbed it again and again and again until it stopped beating.

"Yes ma'am. I refuse to be beaten."

Quirking his lips, tilting his lips, letting a single strand of green hair hang lip Izuku gave his mother the same placid, content smile she gave the men she seduced.

"See yah soon!"

Strolling out, she waved at the waitress girl.

"Hey Kimiko, I've got table three right?"

The dressing room was for Family only. Izuku still made sure to give the help an extra smile and a swish of his hips. They knew he was off limits, but, well, it was the thought that counted.

"Yup! Right over there Zu-zu." Her voice dropped, the blonde's words coming out low and clear. "Be careful. They came in drinking and they already tried to grope Maria."

Smile flickering for a second, he nodded.

"Don't worry. I… well, they're VIPs. It's what I'm here to handle."

Eyes wide, the waitress only struggled for a second before nodding.

"We have to do what we have to do. Good luck Izuku."

Twenty seconds later, with three steaming bottles of sake and two piping hot pots of tea on his tray, Izuku gave the raucous, laughing, and very clearly drunk group of men she'd be entertaining tonight her brightest, fakest smile.

"Thank you for waiting gentlemen, my name is Kyoko, and I will be attending to you this evening."

Giving them a flourish, she had the bottles on the table, fine wines pouring out into even finer porcelain cups, and the group had already focused on her entirely. Useful, since the waitresses delivering the food had just brought their appetizers and the group of almost a dozen men were clearly hungry for what was on their _other_ menu as well.

Izuku should have minded that.

Should have cared more about it.

He was, in essence, working in a decidedly illegal establishment, serving people who were most definitely involved in illicit affairs for the sake of pushing his family's agenda through careful manipulation and acting.

Such was the role he had been given.

Tamping down on the actual annoyance he felt, Izuku carefully made one of his rabbit ears twitch as he poured drinks, body language nicely set between nervous excitement and embarrassment, an easy, practiced smile put over his worries and discomfort much like a mask. Come to think of it, he likely should request one of the family artisans by the end of the night.

It was tradition after all.

"Kyoko-san! One more please!"

Places like these, owned by the Yamata, were commonplace. Legal enough that most authorities wouldn't think twice about investigating them, plentiful enough that his relatives could cycle through them in search of prey. Or, in this particular case, lure in men who had crossed them.

After all, one of the group was most decidedly drinking much, much less than the others.

"Come on Tojiro, that's just your second cup! You're a man aren't you, drink up!"

Weakly protesting, the thin, shaky man tried to refuse the bottle pushed into his hand. But, when the whole group turned to him he turned to Izuku in fear. Cutting his eyes, the disguised rabbit boy pointedly glanced at the cups around the table.

Blessedly, their plant was quick on the uptake.

"Ok, ok. But first, let me pour everyone some. Toasts must be made as friends!"

Load shouts of "hear, hear" and "Tojiro you sly dog" were soon joined by a chorus of "Kampai!" as they each downed a drink.

"So, have you fine gentlemen decided what you want to eat tonight?"

"You!"

The man to Izuku's side reached over and gave his rear a firm pinch. Several emotions ran through the young man in that moment. Chiefly surprise.

"Eep!"

Izuku jumped three feet up and back, almost tearing his kimono, in reflex.

"Ah! Are those ears real or just a toy? I didn't feel a tail on you girl!"

His eyebrow twitched.

"Sir." Izuku couldn't help baring his teeth a fraction, it came across as a strained smile rather than a desire to bite into the mark's throat. "I assure you, _all_ of me is quite real."

This was, apparently, the height of comedy as the group laughed and cheered again.

His biggest problem wasn't that they were annoying drunks. No, Izuku would have been fine dealing with them for the rest of the night if it meant he could have found some form of excuse to justify failing his task. The rabbit boy wanted to be stiff and awkward, wanted to ruin their mood and make them leave.

Anything to avoid what was to come.

But they were making it so easy.

They didn't realize. Didn't care to read the signs of dangers all around them. How the other patrons had already left, how they were being secluded from the rest as the hour wore on. No matter how much he wished to tell them of the coming danger, Izuku couldn't find it in himself to warn them.

"Are you sure about this? This one is very expensive, you know~"

Sugary smiles and warm drinks were all he needed to do.

Eventually he dragged their orders out of them, often interpreting them to be the choices that were as expensive as possible. He was still getting a tip after all.

Two hours later, after the party had gorged themselves, racked up a bill four or five times as large as any sane man would be able to stomach, and gotten thoroughly, utterly plastered Izuku smiled.

"Oi, oi, oi. Waitress. I like you. I want you. How much do you cost?"

"Ah, I apologize sir. I'm not for sale."

The mark had finally acted on his expected desire. And much later than they expected. After all, they had confirmed he liked traditional women, doubly so if they had animal ears, and liked them young too.

"One hundred thousand yen!"

He bowed apologetically.

"Again I must apologize, I'm outside of your price range."

Now he was scowling.

"A million then! I'll pay you a million for the night, but you'd better be worth it!"

This time Izuku hesitated. Maybe he ended up making the man drink too much after all.

Well, as the family saying went, no use crying over spilled drinks. Or was it blood? He never quite remembered it.

"Well sir, you are the customer. And the customer is always right!"

At the table, there was one sober customer and one sober waitress. The customer glared at his very munch empty sake cup. Izuku merely gave him a tender smile. Turning to the man who had just bought "her", he held out his arm.

"If sir would be so kind to escort me?"

Izuku didn't actually want to let the big lug touch him, or his dress, stained with food and drink as he was. But if the bastard fell over and broke his neck, then it would make all of this pointless. So, grimacing, he adjusted the cleaning towel to prevent the businessman from actually touching as much fabric as possible, and let the poor fool lean against him as they staggered towards the back rooms.

In the sleeping area of the inn, the green haired waitress guided his target into a very special room. One that required a particular key card to unlock. Pushing the door in, they came into a half painted room that smelled of antiseptic and was covered in plastic.

"Thanks Izuku."

A nearly eight foot tall bull man slammed his fist into the drunk's face, catching him before the mark hit the ground. Even the slightly overweight businessman was like a toy in the giant's grip. It didn't stop the leg breaker from holding the body at arm's length to avoid getting blood on his very expensive pinstriped suit.

The rabbit boy sighed. Watching in silence as his cousin grabbed the unconscious and likely concussed man by the leg, dragging him over the spotless floor towards a door that led out the back, his ears picking up the hum of an engine from the other side of the concrete walls. Probably a SUV going by standard protocol.

It had taken the man all of a few seconds to drag the man out the door and toss him into the hands of his underlings, all wearing face coverings and semi expensive suits.

It was standard protocol.

It was normal. Everything Izuku had grown up hearing about.

This was his family.

"Thank you for your patronage." He bowed his head lightly towards the door, watching as the man he'd just spent the last few hours lying to and intoxicating was tied down and kicked around by his cousin's men.

"Not bad for the first time, Midoriya." The ox-man rumbles. "You were late by ten minutes, but that's to be expected. How much did the idiot over there offer for you?"

Izuku's mouth felt dry.

"A million."

The older man snorted.

"What an idiot. Came into the establishment thinking he was hot shit when he owed us, and then offers to buy one of us with that spare change."

He shook his head for a moment, almost as if he truly couldn't understand the depths of human stupidity. Fishing around one of his pockets, the tall man offered Izuku a card.

"The payment will be forward to this account. Your tip has also been included. Good work out there." His face became pensive. "You sure you don't wanna work here full time? We got enough space to fit you in. It's annoying having only a few members of the Family here. Everyone else is an employee."

"I'm sorry Outsuno, I'm still, technically, in training. Until Number Five has decided I'm ready, in his care. Thank you though. I… appreciate the offer."

"You look tense."

From anyone else, that would have been a come on considering what Izuku was.

"Is it that easy to see?"

From his cousin, it was just a statement of fact.

"Not really." The bull shrugged. "Your eyes were scrunched up a bit though and nothing ever normally bothers you."

Letting emotion flicker across his face, he couldn't help sagging a bit.

"Hey. Chin up cousin. We aren't gonna kill the guy, he owes us money. Way more than what we'd get for his organs."

Izuku raised an eyebrow.

"Hah." Outsuno gave a chortle. "Guess that didn't help, huh?"

"I'm glad to see something got through that thick skull of yours."

A massive hand clapped him on the back.

"Come on brat, let's get something to eat. I'm starving after all that hard work and I'm sure you wanna get off your feet."

By the time they returned to the main area, most customers had already left, while the staff was beginning preparations to close down. Rooms were being emptied out for cleaning, employees were getting changed. It was, all things said, just like any other business Izuku had seen.

Of course, he knew better.

"The morning staff should still take a few hours to get here. Why don't I make us something to eat while we wait." The ox man waved him towards the kitchen, spotless and stinking of the same chemical mixture as the room downstairs. The Family didn't tolerate filth in their establishments.

Outsuno pulled out a fat, glistening steak, happily whistling as he chopped it, pulled out a pot of soup broth that was leftover from the day, and started pulling out various vegetables to dice.

"Come help me with the veggies?"

Shuffling out of the top layer of his Kimono, Izuku carefully laid it out and walked over. Catching the knife tossed to him, he rolled up his sleeves and got to cutting.

"I know it seems odd. Working for the Family. You're still young, but you'll get used to it. And it's nice being looked after."

The muscle bound giant casually spoke while heating the mixture, scraping the strips of glistening meat into the pot.

"Did you cut the radish and carrots?"

Izuku handed them over.

"Thanks. I guess you're thinking, but I want you to know we've all got your back. All of us. It's part of being what we are. I mean, we aren't human after all. So there's no one else who really gets us."

The last of the veggies, including a fresh head of cabbage Outsuno washed and tore up, had been added. And once it had been properly spiced, it didn't take long for the broth to be brought to a boil and the stew to finish.

"Thank you cousin."

His heart still hurt, he couldn't help dwelling on the last look he'd seen on the man's face. Pure confusion and terror as a foot collided with his ribs. But Izuku was tired and his feet ached and he was ready to get out of his makeup.

"For the food and your company. It's… very good."

"It's what Family is for."

They ate in amicable silence, though it was in part due to Izuku not knowing what to say. He had just watched a man getting dragged down and beaten by the thugs of a loan shark without a care in the world. He should have felt something… should have said something… yet it was all he could do to thank the man for falling for their trap.

His heart clenched at the memory.

"Does it get any easier?" He blurted out, refusing to look at his cousin.

"I don't think it was ever hard for me. It was all my dad ever talked about when I was a kid. He'd brag about it to his brothers and his job always came up at the dinner table." The larger man chewed through his words. "My first time? Well, I was just a thug helping him out because he was short handed. Didn't really know what to do, so I just… followed everyone else's lead."

Not the answer Izuku wanted. But one he expected.

"Things got better though. I took over for dad after he got old. Used the money from all the wetwork to set up a few places like this. I'd like to think I'm doing great after starting off so low. Maybe if I play my cards right I could even be a Number."

The two of them shared a good chuckle at that.

Numbers weren't appointed like a business. They were bred for the role, true freaks of nature who carried Orochi's bloodline thicker than any other. It was a normal joke to be made, stating that someone was doing well so they should become the next Number.

It was like telling an alley cat to become a tiger.

"I wish you the best of luck. Just don't tell Number 5 I said that." Izuku stage whispered, looking around playfully, as if someone were about to jump through the walls at his words.

Outsuno grinned.

"How's the old spider doing, by the way? I heard your mom was the one training you."

Izuku shuffled in place. The picture of maidenly innocence.

"Mother… requested she be given authority over me. Number 5 saw no reason not to grant it." Why wouldn't she? His mother was one of the top billers of the fifth branch, the latest success story that didn't involve advanced eugenics. If she said she could train someone to be just like her, management was going to listen.

"Obviously you've learned how to switch genders and you were already good at controlling your emotions. But what else did she teach you? Her fighting style? Poisons? What"

Shrugging, Izuku made a noncommittal noise.

"Everything and nothing. If she thought it was important, she touched on it, but it's early days yet. Just because I can do something like this doesn't mean I'm finished."

The older man nodded in understanding.

"Don't think I'd be cut out for that sorta life. Nothing against you and your mom. It just seems like too much effort."

Izuku sighed, feeling the events of the night wearing on him.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So, have you gotten to the bedroom part yet?"

The rabbit boy felt his ears colors in embarrassment. Of course his cousin's mind would dive straight down the gutter.

"Not yet, I'm afraid. Mom seems to think she's making me into some sort of collector's item. Real upscale stuff. It's annoying."

The ox-man grinned.

"Just saying. I got a big room upstairs that nobody uses. If you're up for it."

Izuku let out a chuckle, eyes glimmering in amusement as he placed his chin in his hand. A quirk of the eyebrow and a twitch of his ears to draw attention.

"No can do, Outsuno-san. I'm afraid you couldn't afford it, either."


End file.
